Singing with your heart...

Hello here boys and girls...

Yesterday, me and my classmates went to the Nazareth Home for Single Mothers. We went there for our CWTS class and it was the second to the last activity that we did for the summer. It was also the most meaningful one that we did. For me anyways...

The day started off pretty dull. We went to the assigned meeting place at 8am and went to fetch the "single mothers" so that we could go on a mini road trip. It was what our professor suggested that we do because most of the clients of the home don't get the chance to go out much. It didn't seem like a worthwhile idea at the time, but we did it anyway.

Our first stop was our school, and as usual nobody was there except the guard and the custodian. The school nurse was also there, apparently waiting for us so that she could join the trip and document it. I became a sort of spokesperson for our class, and I welcomed them to the college, apologizing that because it was too early, we couldn't bring them inside the mall. I suggested that we go to the riverside park instead, but the professor did not agree because the drivers of the vehicles that we rented were "in a hurry."

So thus ended our trip to the school. Then off we went and rode around Katipunan Avenue and I told them where the different other schools were. Then we went to our last destination, which was UP Diliman. We stopped at the Oblation, I gave them little bits of trivia and history about the place, and then we walked to the lagoon. It was supposed to be just a simple walk to see the sights. But oh what a sight it was! The guy who went up Mt. Everest, the Garduza guy, was there. He was doing a photo shoot/interview for GMA 7. And the moms were thrilled! We even had our pictures taken together with the guy and some even had asked for autographs.

I was thrilled, not because of seeing the "mountain man", but because of the looks on the faces of the girls as they had their pictures taken with a celebrity. They seemed really happy. It actually made me feel that the road trip had served its purpose in entertaining the clients of the Nazareth Home. Its not everyday you get to meet a guy who's climbed Mt. Everest, rarer still meeting only the third Filipino to accomplish the feat.

Then we returned to the Home for a short programme, where I was due to play some music for the single moms. Before we did that, the social worker decided to give us a bit of a tour of the place. Our first stop was the office. It was then that she discussed in detail the situation of the single mothers in the Home. Young and old, they came and went. The abandoned, the rape victims, the runaways, they all came to the Nazareth Home. They were of all ages, from the very young to the older ones. The youngest was 13 years old, raped by her own father and left at the home by her own mother, the oldest was 33, blind and raped by an unknown assailant. Most of them raped, or left by their boyfriends only to be turned away by their families, shocked to find the unbearable truth.

I was in pain. When I learned about the things that they went through, what was in store for them, how they endured what they endured, I felt small. I wanted to cry.

I couldn't focus on anything else after that. We went on with the tour, but I wasn't listening anymore. All I could think about was the sadness that they must have endured and are enduring, despite the smiles on their young and innocent faces. I was so distracted that I couldn't play the songs properly, resulting in an almost horrendous group song. When it was the girls' turn to perform, I felt guilty that we had given them such a crass performance. It was then that a classmate of mine suggested to me that I should play again, just to give them something worthy of their time. So I did.

I went forward, guitar in hand, trembling with nerves, and told them what I was going to play. It was a song that I have never played in front of anyone before. It was a song that I wrote. I told them that it was a song of love, and of hope. And before I played, I told them that even if there was nothing else, it is important to always have hope.

I played and sang with all my heart.

I sang for the hope that maybe my song would, even for a short while, make them have hope again. And you know what? I think it did.

I still cannot forget the looks on their faces after that. It was like for one moment, all of us were connected in one fervent prayer that their children, born or yet unborn, would have better futures than themselves.

The trip made me realize how really lucky I still am. How lucky we all are, that no matter what has happened to us in the past, we do not have to endure such pain.