My biological mom reads my blog often. In reply to my entry below, she emailed me this:

Chocolate Balls

I don't buy sampaguitas from street children. When they insistently tap my car window, I hand them multi-colored foil-wrapped chocolate balls, packaged using cellophane left over from Christmas and festively tied with gold ribbon. My idea is that this treat would end up being just for them. Syndicates will not be interested in chocolate balls and by the end of the night, the kids would have gobbled them up. I know that their task is to sell everything and go home to their parents with money in their pockets because if there are sampaguitas still left to be sold, they won't or can't go home. But I know too that they shouldn't be out in the streets earning a living. So I give them chocolate balls to remind them that they are kids.

On several occasions the stop light stayed red, long enough for me to watch their reactions. At Osmena Highway, there was that little girl with the missing tooth that smiled and said, "Thank you.", then ran to her friends to show what she got. At the railway tracks near San Andres, a pre-pubescent girl took the package with a puzzled look, stared at it for a long time, smelled it and stared at it some more. At Buendia corner Makati Avenue, a boy of about 9, immediately after receiving one, brandished it in the air excitedly and called out to fellow street kids to show them what he got and all the kids ran to my car to get one too. Once, along South Super Highway, a scraggly young boy quickly ran back to a group on the sidewalk and tore open the package, immediately sharing the chocolate with others.

Each time this happened, I saw that for an instant, they forgot they had to sell sampaguitas. I am sure these kids would rather play or be in school than sell sampaguitas. But the reality is that poverty and family circumstance drives them to do it. And so even before they have learned to read and write, they are forced to enter the adult world of self-preservation and survival.

Selling sampaguitas robs them of their childhood. I give them chocolate balls so that for one brief moment being out in the streets would be a "sweet" experience rather than a bitter one.

xxx

Lunch Money

One morning, as I was closing the gate to leave for work, I was intercepted by a man in his early 30s who shyly yet courageously approached me. He said, "Maam, I am embarrassed... I don't usually do this... I am not soliciting since I know it's not allowed but I need money to buy my father his medicine for hypertension. Let me do something for you, take out your garbage or something. Anything. I just need to buy medicine for my father." Then he showed me the empty foil of that particular medicine that he needed to buy.

I told him, "I don't have any garbage left." Then he said, "I used to be your basurero but not anymore. But I'll take out your garbage tomorrow or tonight. You just leave it at your gate I will pick it up. Or if you want I can water your plants. I used to sell plants too."

I asked, "Don't you have a job? You seem to be capable." He said, "I have been looking for a job but I could only get odd jobs here and there, nothing permanent."

"How much is the medicine?" I finally asked. "P37.80 per tablet and he needs to take it everyday. He has been taking it for the last 5 years."

"I think you should look into herbal medicine or something. Look for another doctor that believes in the natural healing methods. Your father has been taking in chemicals for the past 5 years and relies on it. It's not good for him." It was my way of educating him a bit, even through a short street encounter. I looked into my wallet. I only had one P20 bill and the rest was P100. I gave him the P100.

He looked at me with embarrassment. "This is too much. I can't take it all." I told him, "No. Take it. If it's too much, save the rest for next time." He thanked me profusely, "Maam, the good Lord will repay you for your kindness." And in the midst of all this I was thinking to myself, he better not use it to buy alcohol or drugs, but instead I said, "It's alright, just use it for good." He asked with utmost concern, "Wasn't that your lunch money? Maybe you won’t eat lunch? Do you have enough money left for lunch?" I waved good-bye saying, "It's alright, I'll be fine."

As I walked down the street to get a cab to go to work on a color-coded carless Wednesday, I thought to myself, "...And here I am, sometimes deliberately skipping lunch to lose weight while others skip lunch because they have no money at all."

xxx

My Dearest Cat,

My point is that you do not have to give if you believe it is not right to give especially in certain situations like the aggressive-street-kid-encounter you had. But if you do give, do it from your heart and not out of fear. And give what is comfortable and in a way that you feel will make a difference in some way. Maybe you could first talk to the child or person who approaches you even if it's a very short conversation--get to know them for just a tiny bit. Look for the 'soul' behind the dirty outstretched hand. Then maybe you would feel like giving or maybe all the more not. Then you may feel justified.

I don't think there really are hard and fast rules on when to give or not to give. I do not give to everyone that comes my way. Toward beggars on the street, sometimes I just raise my hand to signal I will not be giving them anything and to stress the point, I stare blankly at the far distance as if they weren't there. To solicitors who come knocking on my door with official looking documents, I tell them that so many people have approached me already and I have nothing left to give even if it's not true. Sometimes I use my job as an excuse and tell them I work for a foundation that helps people like them… so sorry, but giving is already my living.

But I have found that if I have truly given from my heart to a person or a cause I believe in, then that can make up for all those others I choose not to give to. Cat, you are blessed with a good job and a good life. You don't have to give to these street children but try to share your blessings to the less fortunate in ways you would love to share it. Your piece, Social Obligations, showed me how concerned you are about these things and that makes me proud of you. You write from the heart and the mind and that makes all the difference between pieces that merely tell a story and pieces that also makes one think.

Love,
Mommy