As time passes by, days move onward and years fly, affluent journeys and unequaled experiences were revealed. Thousand of stories, even obnoxious news were published. But only few, very few, touches our hearts and leave marks not only in our minds but even in our life. I work, for a year now as a journalist under the pseudonym of " Aramis". I'll admit, it is not as easy as I expected but it is as exciting as I predicted. But there's one story that I wanted to share, a story of an unfair kindness and unending care.
It all started when I was going to a rendezvous for a journalism training, but unfortunately, an affray started at the middle of the street. A rambunctious crowd surrounds an ephebe. People vociferate around, but the young man being surrounded stayed like a taciturn child. And because of hopelessness, I tried to make the horde of people lesser until only the victim remained. He was unconscious, so I panicked and tried to pursue some passersby to help me, but it was a piffle cause no one made a single action or even take a second look at the poor young man. I tried so hard to resuscitate him until he finally regain his consciousness. "Oh Madam!, thank you for helping me. I don't have anything to give you as an exchange for your kind deed. And sorry for wasting your time.", the young man said. He spoke in a very light and sweet voice, without having any of those revengeful melody for people who almost killed him. I can see that he haven't eat for so many days and he wears his torn clothes for like a week already , but despite his looks, I can feel the rush of rapport in me that I need to help him. I invited him to a cafe next door but he just say "Ma'am, I cannot acquiesce to your invitation, the fact that you help me was more than ennow. I don't have anything to give back". Despite of my unending suggestions, he stick to his decisions, so I just bought him loaves of bread, and cups of coffee. I can see through his words that he was a different boy, not like the beggars on the street nor thieves in the city. So I asked him some information about himself. "Ma'am I am Kirk, I am ten years old. I live with my grandparents in the province of Pampanga.", he stated. "But how come you are here in Manila?", I asked again. "Ma'am, last year my grandfather died, and my grandmother was so depressed. Because of old age and struggles of giving me a good life, she got sick. According to the doctors in the barangay centers, she has the symptoms prone in Alzheimer. Soon, she forget my name and many times she goes out to our house and sleep at the streets. I always talk to her like the old days, cause according to doctors this will help her a lot, and because we don't have money to supply her medical needs. Until one day, she went out again and never came back. I was so afraid to lose her, and while I am looking for her, a man told me that she is here in Manila. It took me uncountable days to walk and get here, and after months I still can't find her. But I will never stop looking for my Lola, never.", he narrated. I can feel the pain he has, but I asked again where he get his courage and strength. "Ma'am, my grandparents told me that I should always be thankful and pray to God.. Be thankful despite of being poor. Be thankful because I was so lucky I have eyesight not like other beggars in front of church. Be thankful that I have complete body parts and chance to study not like other less unfortunate children. I always think of them Ma'am. They told me the happiest thing on earth was not gold but being with your loved ones. Some people give me money in the streets, but nothing can replace my Lola Ma'am, nothing on earth".
I can see the innocence in his eyes, the uncouth actions and the scratches that meant struggles to see his loved one. Instead of being happy with his little friends, or studying and playing, he chose to be alone looking for someone. He told me he has to go, and continue searching. I don't want him to pursue it because I never thought of the chances of him seeing again his sick grandparent. But he insist, he said he will be happier looking for her rather than sleeping in a comfortable bed while his grungy grandmother was in the streets, looking lost and unhappy. So I gave up, instead I just gave him some money so he can ride in vehicles. He say words of gratitude and I can see that he was really thankful. Kirk walked away, but he stopped when he saw very old beggars. I looked at him in a punctilious manner and became really shocked. He gave all the remaining bread and almost all the money he has to the beggars in front of him. Tears fell from my eyes. I realize that Kirk wasn't lucky to see me, instead I was so fortunate to know him. This young man was different, I thought he was unfortunate, but I was wrong. Kirk is one of those few people who know what happiness and love truly mean with his very young age. He was, for me a Real Man in his generation.
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