Rizal Avenue is one place that has become part of my everyday life since my first year in college. And one thing that has stricken me is this fat woman who lives under the LRT Line 1 in Avenida St. near Doroteo Jose station. I don’t know her name but I always see her there while on my way to school or to SM Manila and that space there looks like her home; I see her eat, sleep and sit there. She is very grimy. She looks deranged. Her dirty clothes are disorderly worn and her kinky hair is scruffily spread in her cheeks. Sometimes I see her walk around with a lot of foods in her hands and bring them to her fellow beggars and they eat together. But I have never seen one person hands her food or drinks. She also sits in the floor of the sidewalk with her dirty blanket of things scattered around her, and this blanket appears to be her suitcase.
It seems like her presence completes that part of Rizal Avenue. Maybe the people who pass there are used to see her in the sidewalk or in the middle of the street under the LRT Line 1.
The first time I noticed her was when she wore bra and shorts only; she had a different colour of skin, looks like her body is covered with dried cement that day. From that moment on, I find myself looking for her every time I pass by Avenida. And every time I see her, something feels wrong; it feels wrong because I can’t do something to give her a share of what I have.
What interests me most about this beggar is that, she seems happy and contented living and roaming around the busy and noisy street of Avenida. I don’t see hatred, suffering and weariness in her aura, compared to what we see in other poor people’s faces; they look like cursing their lives because of what they are now. Maybe it’s because her insanity has stolen all the sensitivity and feelings she has, or did something happened to her that caused her to be like this? Or maybe she just sees her life’s bright side, or she doesn’t know how to start again with her it.
Because of these things I see in her, I can’t help but feel concern and guilty at the same time, guilty for not doing a very small thing I know I can. Many times I wanted to go near and help her and know what brought her to that fate, but many times I felt afraid too. Many times I’ve planned and wanted but I just can’t do it. I don’t have enough courage to reach my hand and give her at least a piece of bread or biscuit or maybe I don’t want to give her a little; I want to give her more than that.
This woman is the most different face of poverty I’ve ever seen in Manila, because I always see poor people whose faces blame the fate they have. But her face doesn’t show hatred or blame, she doesn’t seem to hate the world, the leaders and the people in it because of her fate.
I always think and wonder where she came from or what brought her to where she is now. Whenever I think about her, I feel very thankful to God that I am where I am. I always say to myself that I may not be able to give all the things she needs but at least I am able to do my part to lessen the hardships that this unfortunate woman has, but since I haven’t done it yet, I feel incomplete with my thoughts of her.
If only I am brave enough to go down the jeep and hand her food or clothes, this guilt and pity inside of me will somehow be lessened. I know one day I will be able to go to that woman and share with her the blessings I have that will make her feel satisfied, and when that day comes, I will be ready with the things that I will bring to her in the presence of our Almighty God.
-June 11, 2011
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