Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A Human Angel

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Remember my blog about the Free Hugs Movement? This is a follow up which I had unearthed from my lumang baul. The entry date is January 19, 1995.

"Give to another human being without the expectation of a return."
Author:Bill Bradley

Traffic.... But I don't care, I still have more than an hour to kill till duty time at the DPWH-MPR-PMO-COC in Sindalan. Oh, that's Department of Public Works and Highways - Mount Pinatubo Rehabilitation - Project Management Office - Communications Operation Center. Besides Ambor will cover for me, even if I go there pass 3:00 P.M. dead drunk. Two days ago, I've covered for him, didn't even showed up a sec. Tit for tat Ambor.

Right now, traffic is at a stand still. I was thinking of a pitcher of cold, cold draft beer and a medium size vegan pizza - Top's Pizza. Cross the road in a straight line from the main gate of Holy Angel and you'll end up on the front door of Tops. Try it. I'm a regular there. As soon as I came in I just point my left index finger upwards make one circle clockwise and a pitcher will be served in less than 20 seconds. No ice. Undiluted. The pizza then arrives in less than fifteen minutes. I knew them by face even the electrician, and they knew me also. How did that happen. Bitonia Street, Diamond. But I pay promptly, no tips, I don't take advantage.

A quick glance on the watch, it is now 12:02 P.M. We've barely made a foot for 3 minutes. Some passengers on the jeepney have already left and are now walking. Only 4 of us now. The driver, a front passenger and the rest of us below deck. I was tempted to alight but there's music on this jeep. 100.3 F.M. Now, that's music. Although its kinda hissy.

And there he was....

A man came out of a corner carrying one big car battery and from the looks of it that thing is very heavy. I guessed that he's a mechanic because he has that same no nonsense get-me-smudged-with-oil attire as my father, only worst. Therefore, he's a mechanic assistant/employee. He was holding the battery like a groom would with his bride to the bedroom. That thing won't slip for sure.

He's now under that waiting shed, paused for a moment and tried to push something with his right foot. It is the bottom side of an amber colored glass, dark amber. A shard of broken medicine bottle sharp edges point upwards. He pushed that thing wit his foot all the way to the wall below the steel seat of the waiting shed. Looked at it, confident that it won't do any harm, he walked towards this dormitory with a battery shop on the first floor carrying his heavy bride.

I uttered to myself, "Nice". The driver was also looking at the glass below the waiting shed, a smirk on his face. Then the man reappeared walking without his bride now. He reached under the steel seat for the glass shard walked towards where he came from and disappeared on the corner. I uttered, "Nicely, nice", and alighted the jeepney, crossed the road looked on the corner and saw the man sitting at the back of a battered Datsun pick-up. It sped away. He doesn't looked raggedy dirty to me now. He looked like an angel. I met the eyes of the jeepney driver and he's got that glimmering smile. I walked towards Tops. I heard school children's hurried footsteps. I didn't look back. They're out of harms way, I know.

Two thing I've learned at that moment.

1. There's a battery shop at the San Lorenzo building.

2. Despite the dead-tree-in-the-middle-of-the-road traffic, nobody's honking their horns.

Or was it three? A simple act of kindness makes you say "Nice" and "Nicely, nice".

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