Flecks of Varied Colors

Whenever I go to church or walk along the sidewalk with other pedestrians, I can’t rid myself of the feeling of pain the moment I come across those little children. At a very young age, they strolled over and gadded around busy streets and highways, looking for food for themselves and their younger siblings, who waited patiently at their abode near dump sites. Their calloused feet were stumped over dirt, and they frequently burned on those hot concrete roads. One might be fortunate enough to own his ruined slippers, sometimes not the exact pair, which he had dug up from a huge pile of garbage or had snatched from the nearby store. Or he might be lucky to have his rugged and tattered clothes darkened with soil and stains as marks for not having washed them ever since he possessed them. Others, scavenging for garbage cans, wore nothing but their dark skin that had been scorched by the noonday sun. Two or three of them would fight over a small piece of leftover food, and the one who was brave enough would win the piece and save his ever grumbling stomach for the entire day.

You too might have seen them on every corner of the sidewalk or along churches and cemeteries. Or perhaps you've heard their constant knocks on your door, pleading with you to spare them some food or leftovers. But you just shooed them away without giving them any. Or you might easily get irritated with their "Alms Sir, Ma’am" phrases while you were reciting your lengthy prayers at the chapel. Or you might have slapped their dirty hands that touched you the moment you got out of groceries or malls. Or you might have sneered at them with your insulting statements and scolded them whenever they approached you while you were eating your lunch at the restaurant or known diners. It hurts to see you savoring your delicious meal while these hungry children outside stare with mouths ajar at your every swallow.

It's a good thing you have a kind heart and pitied them. You may have dropped a coin or two into their begging hands, and their wide smiles made you feel relieved. You might have shared your meal with them or have opened your door, telling them to go inside for supper. Or you might have given an ample amount to different foundations for their welfare. If only all of us had this so-called "kind heart", there would be no more street children suffering this kind of pain and misery. They would have the chance to live normally, to go to school, to live in a safe home with their family and siblings, to live in harmony and free from danger, to protect themselves against heat and cold, to be nourished, and most of all, the chance to live a wonderful life.