‘Tis the season to be giving

AND just like that, it’s September.

I don’t know how that happened. But yes, the countdown has begun.

To those who still don’t know what I’m talking about, maybe you should move to another country, but to the overwhelming majority who do, I’m referring to Christmas. But December is a long way off, the uninitiated might wonder. So it’s another three months. So what?

Here in the Philippines, whether you like it or not, Christmas season is ushered in by the start of the “Ber Months,” which just happens to be— together everyone— SEPTEMBER.

So don’t be surprised to hear Christmas carols being played in your favorite mall. Or carolers appearing in front of your gates, singing on top of their voices, accompanied by makeshift musical instruments. Because these are part of the Christmas season experience in this country.

Also, expect out-of-towners to descend on the metro. Soon enough, they’ll be hard to miss. They will litter the streets. Literally.

They will be on every sidewalk. Sometimes whole families huddled in one corner. Arms outstretched as soon as they see passer sby.

On some occasions, they send out the “young uns” to accost strangers. Naked or barely dressed, these kids, some barely five years old, tug at the hem of unsuspecting students or zero in on innocent tourists. Their mantra is always the same: “Ma’am/ Sir, give us money to buy food.”

I hate coming out like a Scrooge. To those who don’t know me, they might already be thinking it. After all, I’ve always reminded the public about the law against giving to mendicants. Or of how much I frown on the practice. But it has nothing to do with me being stingy or ungenerous, which I’m not. I’m more than willing to help out as long as I can or as long as my budget allows it.

I just have no sympathy for people who act like society and the government owe them. And don’t give me this sob story about not being able to find employment because if they’re really serious about working, opportunities are apl en t y.

Just ask those scrawny men lugging sacks full of plastic products or scavengers who scour neighborhoods for scraps or those who go door to door selling native brooms and other whatnots, their faces barely visible under a day’s worth of soot and dirt, their skin blackened by the harsh tropical sun.

Or how about those women who walk kilometers daily, a basket full of corn or whatever it is their peddling precariously perched on top of their heads, their voices hoarse from announcing their merchandise?

Compare them to the able-bodied opportunists who line the sidewalks, idly chatting, catching a siesta...

Oh why am I acting like a cantankerous, old man? We have, after all, entered the season of giving, a time when people are expected to be more kind and openhear t ed.