The shabu addict

This is a shortened version of a story inspired by a true event, published in this column many years ago. Edgar was at the top of his class at Ateneo. Suddenly, he became a shabu addict. He started selling their home appliances to buy shabu. He had two sisters, Becky and Joann, who started hating him when he stole their jewelry. Suddenly, he failed three subjects. When he drew a knife on his mother for refusing to give him money, it was the last straw. She decided to bring him to Siser Raquel, the healer.

They arrived a day before Christmas at the healing center. The three women blurted out all their ill feelings against Edgar, who stood meekly in silence. Sister Raquel talked to him alone at the chapel. Then she knew what the problem was.

SR. RAQUEL (returning to the 3 women): There is nothing wrong with Edgar. He says he started taking shabu when the family started ignoring him. He never felt loved.

BECKY (running in tears to Edgar at the chapel and embracing him): I am sorry. We love you, Edgar. It's just we take things for granted, you know, three women keeping to themselves.

The mother and Joann came next. They all embrace each other in a flood of tears. Their reconciliation was the greatest Christmas gift of the Lord to this family. But the story is not over. After a week, Edgar called Sister Raquel.

EDGAR: Sister, you know it is hard to get rid of shabu if you are in advanced addiction. You need to go to a rehab center. 80 percent of the cases return to shabu after a year. I fear going into a rehab center, where you are treated without love. But, when I felt your hand on my shoulder, I felt someone giving me a warm embrace. It is amazing. I do not need to go to rehab. My addiction is gone. Thank you, Sister.

SR. RAQUEL: Don't thank me. Thank Jesus. He healed you instantly.

The child Santa Claus

'Adventus' in Latin means the 'coming' (of the Messiah, the Savior). This Advent, we present Rebecca, a five-year-old child. She has an eighty-year-old grandma.

GRANDMA: Rebecca, my child, what would like for Christmas? Anything in the world that will make you happy.

REBECCA: A cell phone?

GRANDMA: It won't make you happy, believe me.

REBECCA: A cell phone will make me happy.

GRANDMA: What will make you really happy?

REBECCA: To make me happy? Okay, I wanna be a Santa Claus.

GRANDMA: That's hard but it can be done. Go to the mall with your mom when she shops. Just smile at every sour face you see, and say 'Merry Christmas'.

At the crowded mall, without hesitation, Rebecca smiled at sour faces and greeted them with a Merry Christmas. She added a new gimmick. She offered a 'give-me-five' hand.

GRANDMA: So what happened?

REBECCA: So many sour faces, grandma. It is as if it is not Christmas.

GRANDMA: Christmas sometimes makes people sadder.

REBECCA: As soon as I smile, their sour faces light up. Wow, what a gift. To make them smile is my happiest moment. When I gave this old lady a violent 'give-me-five', wow, she almost fell from her wheelchair, but I felt so good as if she had magic in her hand. Why are they so unhappy?

GRANDMA: They have forgotten to be happy until they remembered when you smiled.

REBECCA: Thank you, grandma, for making me a mini-Santa. A smile is better than a cell phone.

She was at the mall every day for a week, obsessed with making people happy. She met many a second or third time. They all smiled at her and offered her a 'give-me-five'. Then she met the old lady again. When Rebecca offered her hand, she backed away.

OLD LADY: I remember you. I have a gift for you because you made me so happy. (She gives Rebecca a cellphone.)

REBECCA: Oh no, I can't accept that. Cell phones make me sad.

OLD LADY: What do I give you then?

REBECCA: No one gives Santa a gift. He is the giver. His gift is the happiness he gets from giving. I am a small Santa. But I'll take the cell phone. Merry Christmas.

This pandemic Christmas, be like Rebecca. Be a Santa for sad and desperate people. They are all around you.

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