I, with my fellow charitable worker and her scientist boyfriend cum physicist cum mountaineer, biker, traversed a four-hour bus trip to one of the communities served by World Vision in Iba, Zambales. We got off the bus at around 11 am, sloshed on a few slices of sweet watermelon from one of the hospitable staff, then had a quick lunch at an unreasonably pricey fastfood chain in the area to brace ourselves for the long afternoon ahead. After minutes of facing sharp slaps of wind as we rode the jeepney, carrying with us an additional sack of Noche Buena packs, we finally reached the Barangay Porac where we were welcomed by anticipating children and their mothers. As soon as we sat on our seats facing the eager audience, the program started. Before the actual distribution of Noche Buena packs was done, there was a short talent show and quick talks of thanks to those who made the mission possible.


For our other purpose in visiting the area, we picked the most memorable and brownest faces of children in the crowd that would be perfect for the Noche Buena photoshoot material we need for the newsletter. Off we picked our footsies and ran to the beach and basked on what's left of the sun before it sets. Cecile also interviewed a family who has received a Noche Buena gift from their sponsor. I would not forget that memorable day, as this last batch of children and families excitedly lined-up for the blessings stored for them and for theirs to enjoy as they spend dinner together before Christmas day-well not exactly at midnight, but I'm thinking that most will be feasting on them for Christmas day lunch. There were families of seven children, of eight, even of fourteen, but before I glared on my critique why they dare to bear kids beyond their economic capacity and lifestyle, a cheerful thought clouded me just seeing how this small act of sharing and spending time mean a lot to how they will celebrate Christmas.