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February 06, 2006
Lighting Candles
By Manuela Perez-Samson
" Light a candle
Listen to the wind
Draw a picture
Eat some chocolate
Open a book
Look at the moon
Smile at yourself..."
Many years ago I sent a card with these lines to a young girl who seemed most likely to be as whimsical as I was (and still am!). Well, that girl is now a full-fledged adult, mature, very responsible, holding an executive position in the company she works in, with several people under her supervision. It’s been years since I saw her... I know she hasn’t married, although not for lack of suitors I’m sure because she’s a very pretty and desirable woman. Sometimes though, I remember the young woman that she was and I wonder if she even remembers these lines, and more unlikely, if she has ever, or will ever, ask any of her people to "light a candle... listen to the wind..."
Anyway, I thought of her again now because I found these lines again, written on a scrap of paper tucked among many other scraps of paper in a folder. And I thought, perhaps it’s time to pass these lines on again and ignite the flames of whimsy in a young mind. Some of us have got to believe still in magic. Else what will happen to this planet that’s already battered and beleaguered as it is?
Okay, I’ve said that before and I’m repeating myself and being a persistent old fool (as opposed to being a persistent young fool in years past). But we do have to take time out sometimes, declare a holiday in our minds from the daily concerns that plague us and light a candle and watch the flame flicker then glow, watch the shadows it creates on the wall... listen to the wind, invisible to the naked eye but clinking chimes together to create music for the listening ear... look at the moon and with childlike faith trace the outline of a man in it. Else what will happen to our world?
I too light candles in my little altar -- six vigil candles, each one with a special prayer attached to it for a particular someone, asking for a particular favor. It all began when a nephew in the military was captured by the NPA and I made a silent vow to keep a candle burning for him until he was free again. The vigil lasted a few years, but yes, he was eventually released, or rescued. Since then, candle flames have flickered and glowed on my little altar table, gaining in number as more prayers were prayed. Sometimes, even for a stranger, like Robert Tarongoy who stayed captive in Iraq even as others were either executed or released. I didn’t know him save for his name because he was a news item in the papers. Never even knew what he looks like, but when news of his release finally came, I smiled and thought to myself that perhaps, in its small way, my lighted candle helped him to come home again.
I had thought to write my personal chronicle for the year 2005 -- a not-so-good year, no excitement, nothing significant happening, what remaining dreams I had still unfulfilled, due mainly to my own laziness and lack of drive, enthusiasm and ambition. I had thought, so what’s there to write about? The same events unchanging from day to day, month to month, season to season. But a few months before 2005 ended, I learned that nothing remains unchanged, save change itself. I learned that never again should I take anything for granted, nor think that each day is bound to be exactly like the day before it, unless I do something to make it different. Because something can happen, and nothing is ever the same again.
Well, I guess the people in New Orleans and Louisiana and those other cities, didn’t expect a fury like Katrina either. Perhaps many of them were bored to tears over the unchanging seasons of days and nights, weeks and months, and craved excitement and thrill. How many of them now will wish they could take back their wish and return to the unchanging pattern of their days?
Now we’re into the second month of a new year, and ’tis a month so popularly branded as the month of love, not only in this country but all over the world. I always believe though that love, like the heart, knows no season. It should be eternal, and universal. However, that may not sit well with the makers of cards and the sellers of gifts who have placed a price tag on our emotions and brainwashed us into putting schedules on our feelings.
All the same, my dearest wish for everyone in this planet, is that this year may bring you your heart’s desire. A happy new year and a happy Valentine’s to you all out there!
NELLIE SAMSON was editor-in-chief of Women’s Journal, EW and Woman, all weekly magazines, at various times in her life. In her spare time she writes short stories and feature articles, most of which have been published in magazines of national circulation, and in a book, EQUINOX I, An Anthology of New Writing from the Philippines, edited by F. Sionil Jose. She has also published a book, Seasons of the Heart, a Collection of Love Stories. Currently, she is gathering material for her second book which she hopes to finish this year.
Nellie lives with her husband Vic, and two of her six children, Vida and Martin, both single. The others are Vicente, Nikki and Michael (all in the US) and Victor (lives next door with his family).
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