Still a compartmentalized Christmas

I saw a vision of a poor family scavenging among the garbage on Christmas Eve, trying to retrieve leftovers thrown away by the fast food restaurants. I saw boys knocking on windows of flashy cars caught in traffic, I saw their hungry looks and angry eyes asking why during the birthday of the Lord, the poor whom He loves so much are hungry. I saw the girls selling dried up sampaguitas to passing tourists and travelers who do not even look at the poorly-clad girls who look desperate. I saw the lame, the blind and the sick by the roadside extending their hands, asking for mercy. But the people were rushing and had no time to look their way.

I saw another vision of a rich family driven by uniformed chauffeurs in a convoy of expensive vans and limousines, they were entering the lobby of a five-star hotel to dine in the most exclusive restaurants where each dinner costs more than $350++ with all the first-class roasted turkey, and imported steaks, with wine, music, and all the trimmings of the rich, powerful, and famous. The family was followed by four uniformed maids who carried the babies and pushed the wheelchairs of the matriarchs and the patriarchs. Three generations of a family that owns banks, malls, buildings, and haciendas.

I saw how money and mamon have compartmentalized the celebration that started in that little town of Bethlehem. I saw how materialism and secularism, commercialization, and capitalism have put a wide chasm between those who own all the means of production on the one hand, and those who live by the sweat of their brow on the other. I have seen how ownership of private properties and wealth in the hands of the powerful few has marginalized and excluded from the mainstream the powerless many. I saw it all, and I am deeply pained by it.

I saw how the homeless, jobless, hopeless people struggle all these years, across land and sea, searching for greener pastures. I saw how migrant Filipino workers put their own lives and security at risk in the midst of global terrorism and war. I saw how they suffer being abused, maltreated, insulted and even sexually molested. I saw how our domestic helpers and construction workers here and abroad offer their time and sacrifices, just to send home a little Christmas celebration. And I saw how the rich ignore them, despise them and sneer at their smell and shabby looks. And yet, both the rich and the poor are children of the same God, and that they deserve equal Christmas for themselves.