Jane and I used to orate a poem for Mama when we were small (and Christmas trees were tall). Sadly, I remember only these lines:
O ina kong mahal, dito sa daigdig
ang ngalan mo’y lagi naming bukang bigbig.
Sa iyong kandungan, may tamis, may ngiti;
nawawala ang munti kong lungkot at pighati.
I think I’m missing three more stanzas here. (Jane has a better memory; perhaps she can add to it.) But I do remember lucidly that day when our Filipino teacher called each of us to recite the O Ina Kong Mahal poem—complete with actions and emotions—in front of the class. I also remember getting good grades out of it. Yep, those were the days…
During our office devotions last Monday, we were asked about the things we appreciate about our mothers. When it was my turn, these Mama’s words came back to me:
“Iba ang may pinag-aralan.”
That’s what I appreciate about Mama. She inspired me, not just to get good grades at school, but also to love learning. Even before I entered a classroom, I remember reading Rapunzel and Tatlong Munting Biik. If not fairytale books, I would be devouring on the bulky ones like Tell Me Why, Popular Science, and, the biggest of them all, Question & Answer.
Mama used to feed us with her hands. She would scoop rice from the plate with some chicken chunks and called us to her when the mold was ready. Now, only Tien-Tien—our Chow-Chow—gets that privilege.
