My ADMU Essay

Heart-Shaped Biscuit

If life were a grand play, then I must have met the greatest performer of my time. He has put on countless performances in front of enthusiastic crowds, impressed different personalities with his wit, and showed off his talents to various audiences. Despite the unbelievable recognition and astonishing feats throughout his lifetime, he has kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. By the world’s standards, his works and deeds may not be worthy of a Nobel Prize. But in my eyes, he is the one person who managed to win my heart. His name is Phillip, and by the way, he is only 8 years old.

The Mighty Creator must have foreseen the path I was to cross with Phillip. Being cousins with him through my Mom, who is his father’s sister, we are connected in more ways than one. Though I live miles away from him, we still get to see each other once in a while whenever my family travels back to Batangas, where the rest of our relatives reside. Whenever our one-and-a-half hour journey to our province comes to an end, I feel as if I had just entered a whole new world – a world totally different from that of my own. I come into an area, miles away from the buzz and noise of the metropolis, where the coconut trees tower the skies, where the birds roam the heavens, and where children perform their daily plays on the stage, that is their lives. Phillip is one of these children. I would often see him wearing a tattered sando matched with a pair of shorts, which I would often recognize for they come from our yearly gift-giving every Christmas. I remember seeing him running barefoot on the pavement while trying to impress his audience by tagging his competitive playmate as they play patintero. However, throughout our little encounters, we never really had a chance to talk to one another like other cousins do. Being the ate that I am to young Phillip, I would always be the first one to approach him to say hi. I distinctly remember how he would grin in reply, as his plump cheeks dominate his small face. With this grin came a gush of shyness and timidity. And from that familiar grin came the memory of the girl that was me, back when I was his age.

As I look back, I realize that it was only on that very memorable night that he completely tugged at my heartstrings. With the other people, all in poignant moods, flocked in every part of Phillip’s house, I decided to stay secluded and lay in one of the wooden chairs situated at the garden. On those hours of darkness, the stars seemed to have hidden behind the clouds, and even the moon refused to light up the sky. As I was caught up with that feeling of melancholy amidst the cool summer breeze, I caught a glimpse of the inside of the humble abode. Flowers filled the inside of the house, and only murmurs and silent whimpers could be heard. The abode seemed to be drearily lit by candle lights flickering in a jet black summer sky. To Phillip and his family, their father was the one person they could not imagine living without; but then, since the few days that had gone by, they have had to.

I stared blankly at the single rose that had bloomed from the bush, and as all the thoughts and emotions rush in, I felt the tears trickle down my face. Not wanting anyone else to see me cry again, I quickly reached for my hanky and wiped them away. It was only after then that I realized that Phillip had been staring at me the whole time. I distinctly remember how, amidst all the confusion going on around us, I saw his big, brown, puffy eyes shine through the dimness of the night as he caught sight of me. Though startled by his presence, I managed to put a smile on my face – a smile similar to the very grin he would often show me. He then rushed back inside their house, and came back out with a tray of biscuits. He called out to his sister, who offered me a cup of coffee, and Phillip followed as he took one biscuit, shaped like a heart, and handed it to me.

I found myself taking in the reality that was then facing me. The sight of people overwhelmed with distraught pierced through my already-swollen eyes. The sound of the deafening silence of the night was just too much to handle. Thoughts of how a young boy could witness, with his own innocent eyes, the bitter reality of his father's untimely death was just unbearable. As tragic as the experience of losing his father was right before his very eyes, I was taken aback by how young Phillip, at his tender age, was strong enough to face what lied ahead of him. As unfair as it seemed to the whole world, I was amazed by how he, with his purity and youth, made a choice to swallow the pain and help me go through mine. Through his unforgettable deeds of kindness and admirable show of strength, I learned how it was to not let feelings of injustice, suffering, and pain define you. Phillip taught me that I should only let them make me stronger. Through his simple acts of compassion and clear concern for others, I learned how it was to offer a helping hand even when you already have your hands full. What I had gone through, all my hardships and pains, were then nothing compared to what this little boy had experienced. Strong, brave, and able to withstand the trials of his time, he has touched me and changed me. Through his eyes, his grin, and his heart-shaped biscuit, I saw how they were all made part of who he was, and who he is going to be.

He will continue to perform onstage, stand in front of his audience, and stare against the gleaming lights he has accepted as his reality. If life were a grand play, then I surely must have met the greatest performer of my time.