The Prayer
By Rey Moreno
Emailed for posting by Rene Calalang
Pickering-ON-Canada
January 14, 2020
Hail, Mary, full of grace…
Nanay (mother) is praying again. She’s reciting the rosary more religiously now, precisely at six in the evening. Does time really make a difference in having your prayers granted? Perhaps not, but Nanay believes it does. I wonder though if the chosen time is intentional. When every household is either preparing or having dinner at this time, ours is the time to relieve our hunger pain with something else. We don’t have food again tonight. Life is harsh; we live in extreme poverty.
Tatay (father) is a tricycle driver. Most of the time, what he earns is just good enough to cover the gas. But even that small amount of money is in jeopardy. For every night, Tatay comes home with alcohol in his breath. He doesn’t mind not having his dinner. He just goes straight to bed. Nanay sometimes brings home money from the odd jobs she’s hired to do: cleaning houses, washing and ironing clothes, babysitting, taking care of the sick and elderly. When that happens, it is a feast for us! Now everybody is trying to cut down on expenses because the country’s economy is not doing well. Nanay has not been hired for several weeks. She prays the rosary daily for our fortune to change.
I am 17 years old and the eldest of three siblings, all girls. I finished elementary and first year of high school. I play basketball a lot. This passion for sport helps me avoid falling into crimes. I hang around the basketball court because there’s money to make. I’m a dead shooter like Stephen Curry. Those who know my game seldom bet against me. So it makes sense for me and my teammates to go to different places for games. We only play once in every place we come across because of our winning reputation. I dream of becoming a basketball star, but at 5 feet and 10 inches, I’m not tall enough to play in a professional team. So I’m stuck playing for small bets. Still they help my family survive.
My sisters are of the ages of 15, 12 and 10. They look pretty enough to work in the hospitality business. Although the temptation is great, Tatay and Nanay resist bringing the family honour into the mud of immorality. I respect them for that. Money is a dire necessity. But we’d rather starve than blemish the purity of our souls and our chance to go to heaven. Let the earth be our hell but heaven will be our eternal and blissful redemption.
My sisters join Nanay in reciting the rosary. How can the Blessed Mother say no to their petitions? Here we have four ladies with pure hearts praying fervently and with sorrow. I don’t participate however. That’s probably why their prayers are not being answered.
“The lenders are getting mad,” I heard Nanay say. “We haven’t paid our utang (loan) for months now. They’re threatening to cut our credit.”
“Don’t worry too much,” Tatay responded. “I may have the money soon.”
“That’s what you always say. I don’t think I can believe you now.”
“Stop nagging me! You just don’t know how hard I try to find the money.”
“Try harder and stop drinking!”
“Drinking eases the pain and hardship of my life”
“How about us? Do you think we don’t suffer?”
“I’m leaving now. These arguments won’t solve our problems.”
Tatay slammed the door on his way out. Nanay began crying. I stayed on my room rather than attempting to console her. I’m not much of a hugger and don’t know of comforting words to say. A few hours later, I, too, slipped out of the house.
Tatay did not come home that night. He was pouring his soul to his friends with a bottle of San Miguel gin.
“My life is a mess. The house is supposed to be your castle. But I come home with a nagging wife who likes to argue all the time.”
One friend said, “You’re still the man of the house. The problem with you is you let your wife wear the pants. Show her who is the boss!”
“I know that but I also understand her concerns about money. I try each day to hassle passengers, but competition is tough. I can’t help but drown my sorrow with alcohol.”
Another friend said: “You could have solved your problem easily if you let your girls work. Tough times call for tough measure. Sins can be forgiven anytime. Confessions are free.”
Tatay answered, “I thought about that and mentioned it to the wife. She said it could only happen over her dead body!”
I heard enough and left my hiding place with a heavy heart. I love my sisters and don’t want them to become escort girls. If only I could be of more help.
We were winning by a wide margin. But our opponents were getting ticked off and playing rough. I was elbowed hard on my stomach and writhed in pain. My teammates came to my rescue and a fight ensued. I ended up worst with cracked ribs and bruises.
I sat at the waiting room of the hospital. Nanay was imploring the hospital clerk to accept me as a patient. She’s begging for mercy and kindness.
The hospital clerk told her bluntly, “It’s a hospital policy to pay the minimum fee before your son can be accepted. If I allow it on credit, I will lose my job.”
I grabbed my mom before she could make more scenes. “Let’s go home,” I said. “My injuries won’t kill me. I’m young and will easily recover.”
As soon as we arrived home, Nanay lit the candles and prayed the Novena for the Sick. For poor people, this is our sole and reliable medicine. The following day, Nanay left the house early for the church and went straight to the confessional box. Instead of listing her sins and asking for holy dispensation, Nanay was seeking for answer.
“Forgive me Father,” she said, “but I’m not here to confess my sins. I lead a life following God’s ways. I pray the rosary daily and my three beautiful girls join me whenever they can. Yet my family continues to suffer. What more can I do?”
The priest said, “God works in mysterious ways. He knows what we need. He is full of love and won’t let His children suffer without a cause. Be of strong faith. Only those who strongly and truly believe in God will be in His radar. Continue praying the rosary and go to mass daily as well. I have heard you, so God knows what you have to endure. Now go in peace and serve the Lord.”
The neighborhood was abuzz with the upcoming lottery. The winning ticket was worth fifty million pesos. This was the first time the prize reached that amount. Nanay was glowing when she entered the house. She was humming, too, when she tendered my injuries. She laced kisses on my siblings when they came home from school. She even surprised Tatay with a hug, although he was in no shape to stand straight. We all wondered what’s going on.
Our country is a strong believer in God and the priests. Our kind of the American Dream is to rely on God’s miracles. From the time one is born this is the only true knowledge of how the world works. If we suffer it is because we have sinned. We ask God’s mercy and protection by praying the rosary, reciting the novenas, going to mass and receiving communion, giving alms, fasting, and for extreme measure, flagellating our body. In the observance of the Holy Week, we see more flagellants than any time of the year. It seems timing is important for the alignment of our petitions and God’s granting of our prayers.
Nanay believed the time was right. She did her part. Now it’s God’s turn to deliver. She bought a lottery ticket with her last ten pesos. To ensure God wouldn’t deny her winning the lottery, Nanay would make a great offering to God. She heard in one of the sermons about God’s method of measuring one’s faith. God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. Because Abraham truly and strongly believed in God, he was wilfully obedient to God’s command. Abraham passed the test and was forever in God’s favour.
On the day the winning ticket would be drawn at six in the evening, Nanay asked all of us to be present for dinner. She demanded Tatay not to work or go out so he couldn’t have the opportunity to drink. Then she busied herself preparing our meal. She was also avoiding any argument with Tatay . It’s been a while since we had dinner together. We talked and talked and reminisced. We laughed and enjoyed each other throughout the evening. Nanay was very happy.
I saw the lottery ticket properly laid down on top of the drawer where the image of the Blessed Virgin Mary was prominently displayed. It seemed like her eyes were looking at the ticket. But I wasn’t sure if she were sad and heartbroken for the waste of money. The house was pretty quiet. At this time, Nanay would be awake and moving around the kitchen. I could take few steps with less pain now. I checked the kitchen but Nanay wasn’t there. I peeked inside my parents’ bedroom. Tatay was still there sleeping, but Nanay was gone. I surmised she might be somewhere in the neighbourhood doing an odd job. I turned on the radio and heard the winning numbers from last night’s lottery. I wrote them down. Our ticket didn’t win.
As the hours passed from morning to evening, Nanay wasn’t at her usual place when praying the rosary.