A Familiar Face...based on a true story...well actually, it's my story...

I was walking along the busy street near San Pedro College with my elder sister when my eyes caught sight of a young boy, at about an age of 4, carrying a sack full of something--- I didn’t know what it was. His whole body was tainted with grease and dirt and he wore tattered clothes and his eyes stared at me blankly. My eyes gazed fixedly at him for the next moment but I had to keep up with my sister’s speed and walk away. His pitiful image stuck in my head. I kept telling myself, “Why would a young lad like him wouldn’t spend a sunny afternoon like this, playing with his friends?” Oh well, I thought, maybe it’s just the call of reality nowadays---the need to work to eat, even at a very young age…It’s for everyone to face…there isn’t free lunch after all!
My thoughts of his innocent, pathetic face were overwhelmed by the errand which was the reason why I and my sister strolled in the street in the first place. On our way home, we decided to take a lift riding a jeepney. While walking to the station, I caught sight of a familiar face---the boy’s innocent, pathetic face. He was walking briskly as if catching time. Again, he was carrying his sack, but this time, on his back. I didn’t know what was running into my head and whispering into my heart at that time, but one thing was for sure, something or I guess someone (I really don’t know) told me that I had to do something to help the young boy. There was this mysterious urge in me to approach him. But time ran so fast that I had to make quick steps to catch a ride back home. All the while, without me knowing it, my sister was also staring at the same familiar face that I’ve been staring at for the past half a second. These were the words that she uttered,” Hala, Kaluoy! (owww….how pitiful!) Tigai siya og pagkaon..(Give him something to eat.)
These were the words that knocked on my heart and enabled me to hear the cry of his need one more time, but this time, echoing through my soul, through my mind, through my heart and through my hands. Those hands of mine found its way to my bag and scrambled anything to give---anything---at last, there it was, clutched through my fingers was a pack of 3 biscuits. That was all that I had to give. My hands reached out to his and he grabbed the biscuits from mine. Words weren’t heard, only an exchange of stares took place between my eyes and his. Everything moved slowly until the thundering voice of the security guard broke the unseen yet felt clasp of the chain connecting the two of us. He shouted at the boy, telling him to leave the place. I was about to reprimand the guard when…..
the boy ran….
I, too, had to haste….to catch up a ride…
No HI’s, no HELLO’s, no GOODBYE’s….. that’s it….
And that was all that made the difference that day.

“We may sometimes haste too much, moving with the fast pace of life, that we tend to
overlook the people who badly needs our time.”
-Criselda Atabug