Wednesday, December 23, 2020

LITERARY:"The True Essence of Christmas" by Erica G. Ildefonso

Tom Dela Cruz hates holidays, especially the 25th day of December, for it reminds him how indigent his family is if put in comparison with Evan Smith's. It is without a doubt that he loves his friend, but the more he witnesses the dining table full of mouthwatering roast chicken, pecan pie, pasta, and other variety of foods that he cannot name — and the realization that no matter how hard his father works, he can never afford any of these — the stronger his covetousness becomes.

He slaps his face that earns him a sideway glance from Mrs. Smith, startled by his sudden move. That look completely shuts him off: he is thoroughly intimidated. If the tension ceases (which only exists in his mind as he glances at Evan enjoying the food), he can probably finish the meal and munch the chicken willingly. 

"Don't you like the taste of it, Tom?" The worry in Evan's tone adds up to the guilt building inside him. Perhaps, his friend notices how he tries hard to shove the food down his throat.

Tom violently shakes his head. "Are you kidding me? These are the best foods I've ever tasted!" That is true. It is the first time he can eat decent foods at Christmas for it's always his mother's 𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯 and  𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰-𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰 served at the table.

He let out small laughter that fills the dining hall for a while until the awkwardness rises again, and the only sound he can hear is the rattling of the utensils as they hit the plates. He wants all of this to be over. 

When the time finally comes that they finish eating, Tom and Evan bid farewell to Mrs. Smith, who just lights her cigarette and puffs the smoke in front of them, acting completely stoic and uninterested. 

"Just ask Pedro to accompany you there," Mrs. Smith says, referring to the family's old chauffeur. 

During the trip to his house, Tom can't hide his amazement inside the car. He can't feel the bumps as it crosses through the rugged road heading towards his home, which for sure he can't experience if he's riding in his father's tricycle. 

The nearer they are to his house, the louder and livelier the surrounding becomes. The street is full of people shouting and dancing, some kids are even running with their makeshift tambourines and drums, and others are busy setting up their fireworks. 

Tom notices the smile painted on Evan's lips. He knows how his friend craves this kind of environment, loud and lively, the very place that witnesses him grow.

"The blue fence over there." He points toward the musty old gate beside a vacant lot. "Yes, that's our house."

The two boys step out of the car and wave goodbye to Pedro, who is on his way to celebrate Christmas with his own family. 

The moment Tom knocks at the gate, a middle-aged woman comes rushing towards them. She is wearing a tattered apron, stained with some red sauce at the torso part. She approaches the two with much enthusiasm and leads them inside their little home. 

"Come in, come in!" 

As soon as they step in, realization dawns upon Tom. He is no longer inside the dining hall with huge chandeliers and gold accents everywhere. He is back in this decrepit house with worn-out cushions, old curtains, and a poorly-working television screaming this is where he belongs. 

A low voice from his side wakes up his senses. "Son, you're just in time for Noche Buena." 

It's his father who just woke up from his sleep after working for twelve hours to afford their food that day. With droopy eyes and a tired smile, Mr. Rodriguez turns to his son's companion, "Who is this young man here?" 

"This is Evan, my friend. The boy I keep telling you about if you still remember."

"Ah! Yes! Come, sit. Make yourself at home," Mr. Rodriguez says in which Evan willingly obliges.

Tom doesn't expect Evan to be comfortable in his house. He thinks his friend is so accustomed to luxurious life that staying in this kind of home can be deemed disgusting, but because Evan is so persistent staying here, he finally gives in. 

"Dinner's ready!" 

The loving voice of his mother cues them to set themselves on the corner of the living room where a small table is placed. Before eating, Mr. Rodriguez utters a prayer, expressing his gratitude for the blessings presented before them. 

"What do you call this again?" Evan asks, referring to the purple rice cake with coconut and sugar sprinkled on top. 

Tom giggles, and with a proud smile, he answers, "We call that 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘨. Mama makes that and other 𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯, and sells them during Simbang Gabi beside the church." 

Evan, curious about his friend's remark, blesses himself by taking a bite. A smile beams on his face, and, without any second thought, he takes another bite, and another one and another, until all that left on his plate is the banana leaf. 

"Easy there, kid. You haven't tasted Sinang's 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰-𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰 yet." Mr. Rodriguez stops Evan from having another set of puto bumbong. Instead, he serves the lad with 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰-𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘰.

"Oh! Let him have what he wants, Tonyo," Sinang tells his husband. "I'm glad you are enjoying the food." She is smiling ear to ear, her heart is fluttered with the little boy's appreciation for the meals.

"I think my stomach will be bloated after this," Evan says half-jokingly. 

"Oh sure, it will," Tom adds.

Waves of laughter envelope the living room but are immediately drowned out by the Christmas songs blasting on the radio. After finishing the dinner, Tom suggests that they see the fireworks display at midnight. 

At 11:59, they gather in front of the television, and together with the whole country, they start counting down from ten until it finally hits one, and they all shout "Merry Christmas" at the top of their lungs. They go outside where the people are busy dancing and making noises with their makeshift tambourines and drums, while some are clapping the lids of their pots to create buzz and clamor. At that moment, Tom feels in a state of bliss. Why does he even want an elegant Christmas celebration when he already has these?

He looks at Evan, whose eyes scream joy and amazement. Perhaps, he too has some realization which he can never know.

"Thank you, Tom." 
"Thank you, Evan." 

The two friends giggle, and with their arms around each other's back, they watch the fireworks beam with colors and vitality that temporarily paint the black pitched sky. It is not too long that they feel a pat at their heads, and as they look up, they see Sinang and Tonyo smiling at them. 

At that very moment, Tom Dela Cruz begins to love the holidays, especially the 25th day of December, for it reminds him how blessed he is with his loving family and a good friend, Evan Smith.

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