Angels Gone Proles

A colleague of mine is having his birthday next week and he plans of celebrating it with the less fortunate kids in Tabor Hills. I'm planning to join him to share a few of my blessings too. Then I remembered I created one article about three little boys who, at a very young age, had to beat the sun just to earn a few coins for the day. I dug into the site where I had it posted to share it with you:

05.10.07
My First Entry

"I was all fine being just a reader in this thread and had no plans whatsoever in sharing my own escapades. But this day is different. I felt I needed an outlet. I just couldn't keep this to myself.

On my way to work this morning, I saw three little 'magbobote'. Three little boys who I suppose are still around 6 or 7 years old. When I walk, I am not the type who stops and smells some roses. I am like an arrow, aimed straight to hit the bull's eye. But not today.

My attention was caught by a sound of bottles, busily arranged by three little boys in three big sacks. What I saw next nearly broke my heart. One of the little boys-- ragged, soiled, barefooted; decided to stretch his back a bit, wiped his sweat, and was enviously looking at some children (of his age) nearby happily playing. His eyes looked tired. He looked hungry. I suddenly saw a shy smile coming out of his face. Yes, must be a smile of envy. A smile wishing he was there with those kids, shouting & laughing around. Then he picked up more bottles, and went on with his work.

As I kept walking, I couldn't help but turn and look back at them. Pity. Do they go to school? Where are their parents? Aren't they suppose to be having fun & enjoying the summer? Where have their feet taken them? Do they ever feel that fate has been cruel to them? Tsk tsk... They are too young to be working. They are robbed of their childhood.

I realized too late that I should have done something for them. I should have offered to buy them a juice or anything to munch on. I felt bad that it never occurred to me the moment that I saw them.

I've always had a soft heart for children. For these so-called little angels. And I regret that I missed the chance to be their angel this time.

Will I be seeing them once more? Maybe tomorrow? Or day after? I don't know. But I hope I will.

And I'll make sure I have my good deed in hand when I hear bottles tinkling again."

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One friend, after reading this blog, advised me to submit this article in a newspaper. But I never got the chance to do it.
And I haven't met again those three boys since.