And a little child shall teach them
Credit to Author: FR. RANHILIO CALLANGAN AQUINO| Date: Mon, 21 Jan 2019 16:12:56 +0000
I WRITE this one day after the Feast of the Santo Niño, the Holy Childhood of Jesus. And I write about children and the joy they bring — though I have none myself.
For the longest time, I disliked children. I disliked their romping around; I hated it when they interrupted Masses over which I presided with their bawling and their tantrums. I was peeved by the mess they almost always made of things.
But children came into my life. My brother and his wife gave us the youngest members of our family — and soon there were children scampering all over the family compound. I had to be taught by their mom how to carry them properly as tiny infants, and as they grew up, I heard myself being addressed as “tito” for the first time ever. My priestly assignments did not allow me to be with them most of the time, but when I did, I found myself enjoying their rambunctious company.
One day, everyone else was out — every adult who could mind the children — and so I was left with three children for whom the word “discipline” might as well have been from a foreign language, and its ways, totally unknown to them. But we got along. And more importantly, I learned about their world and their concerns. It was a door to another universe, in some places joined to ours, but in most respects totally different and more awesome.
They wondered where ants live, and where it was to which they were carrying the bits and morsels of food they always seemed to be busy with. It amazed them that they could march in a straight line, sometimes apparently bump into each other or, as they saw it, “kiss” each other, and keep the line going at the same time. A trip to a local grocer was a treat — an activity to which my mother would often strenuously object because it ruined their appetite for truly nutritious food. It is an axiom of childhood that what is nutritious to the reckoning of adults is completely obnoxious to children. Ampalaya is the principal instantiation!
They had their own quarrels, but they had ways of resolving them, and I learned that it was best that we adults did not interfere. They had their own ways of “alternative dispute resolution” not found in any rule book promulgated by the State. It was a world full of the arbitrary, the impromptu, the elements of surprise — sometimes even of the more frightening kind — but that was what made their world so much more interesting than our boring one — obsessed with results and outcomes and products and efficiency! My nephews and niece taught me that the clock is not the only way to reckon time. Their days were marked by the TV shows they watched, the snacks they took, the games they played and periods of sleep when some quiet would descend on our house.
But all too soon, my nephews and niece grew up and this time, I was visited in my rectory by high schoolers who loved me, no doubt — and showed it too — but had other interests in their lives. Sometimes, they made it clear to me that I was not necessarily on the list of their priorities, and that seems to be true of how they ranked their parents as well, in the hierarchy of their adolescent interests.
Then another child entered my life — the daughter of my best friend and office assistant. This time, I was assigned completely to Tuguegarao, and so I had her with me from the time she was old enough to be left without her mom. I learned to bathe a child, see to it that her sleeping hours were kept and that her bottles were sterilized properly. I shared in the worry of her parents when she was sick, and was anxious no end whenever hospital stays became necessary.
She forced me to watch cartoons with her — and soon I found myself loving the characters, and singing the songs like Barney’s trademark tune even when alone. “I am the genie of the desert, the desert, the desert…” — that was one of TaTa’s songs and mine. Then later, after she had watched “Frozen” repeatedly, she decided that it was time I did, and so I did — and honestly, I liked the story. It was a child’s story, but such stories are infinitely rich in lessons for us: about honesty, sincerity, friendship and true love. One of my favorite characters was Sven, the reindeer — and TaTa did not forget. I bought her a whole “Frozen” toy set.
All the characters were in it. She loved it. But at Christmastime, aside from the gifts her parents had for me, she had a small parcel for me — and in it was “Sven.” I asked her why she was giving me back a piece of a set I had given her. She had a simple answer — that articulated the generosity and love of a child: “Because Sven is your favorite.”
I think the trouble with the world is that we are all too eager to leave our childhood behind, and shed it off like the molting of a snake and sadly, often, that is what we become: vicious, fearsome vipers. But the Prophet Isaiah had a vision: a child playing atop a viper’s pit and left unharmed, and a troubled world led by a child. Is it any wonder then that we have been taught by God’s Son who became a child that the Kingdom of Heaven is only for those who can become children again?
rannie_aquino@csu.edu.ph
rannie_aquino@sanbeda.edu.ph
rannie_aquino@outlook.com
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