Eric Ariel Salas

It seems it will be a lonely Christmas in Brookings. No ever-vibrant carolers and their songs. No aesthetically-pleasing decors appealingly hung in each household. No huge, I mean HUGE, colorful lanterns lined-up on busy sidewalks. No effulgent blinking series lights that mimic the enchanting twinkle of the midnight stars. Nothing special (not even the lights at the downtown area) is telling me to cruise to the nearest post office and have my most valuable cards sent with Yuletide greetings and good cheers to my family back home. Sigh. Even though I saw Eve this weekend (the girl I secretly admire at the student union) and even talked to her, the holidays would still be lacking with lustre. By the way, she looked extra super-duper gorgeous and I just melted like a candle, however, a million times faster. Maybe she already knew that the previous article I wrote was for her. Though barely felt, the holiday season is here. I am wishing that Eve could do magic and trick the never-ending flame of the holidays burning in my heart, leaving a stinging sensation I would remember year after year. Truth is, I do not want my Christmas this year to be lonesome.Before you start bashing me of my negativity on how I see Christmas in Brookings, let me explicate a few things first. You see, Christmas in the Philippines starts when the month starts with “ber,” that is, September. It ends at the day of the three kings, around mid-January. A Christian country with a devout population, no surprise, it holds the title as the nation with the longest Christmas celebration. As early as September, I would already see a different glow on the faces of young children – something so wonderful that could only spring from eternally clinging to every hope in life. I am referring to children from less-fortunate families. Christmas for them is a complete joy, for it is when horrible nightmares in their sleep along dreadful sidewalks become sweet, enchanted dreams on a soft, mushy bed. Christmas is a wish of being adopted by rich families even for a day and be out from their wretched, cartoon-made shanties that are easily blown by a muted passing breeze. Christmas is a big dream of having to taste the sweetness of Notche Buena and the all-time favorite keso de bola. Few weeks before the D-day, I would expect godchildren to drop by my house and search beneath the Christmas tree gifts I have reserved for them: a dress, shirt, pair of shoes and a pack of groceries. Their smiles are more than enough to make me see and understand how the season could be so rewarding through sharing any little I have. ‘Tis the season to be jolly! Four of us siblings would often decide to go on a caroling patrol, usually past midnight, after the “Silver Bells” rang on the last open door of our neighbor’s house. We normally meet other carolers along the way, and, chances are, we group together for a big bang of “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Silent Night,” two songs we have nonetheless mastered with time.In a matter of days, there will be festivities in most homes in Brookings. Most likely it will be different from what I experienced back home. My sole wish for all of us is that, wherever we are, we may reflect on the condition of the starving and war-torn regions and pray for our destitute brothers around the world. Let us furnish them what they have less, and share God’s blessings to those in need.Isn’t that the essence of Christmas? I do not want my Christmas this year to be lonesome. If, at some point, it gets boring, Eve and I will head to a pile of snow, lie on there for a moment, sing Christmas carols, join the trees of Brookings clapping their hands in celebration and hear the wind resound with a mighty roar, while the heavens rejoice and the earth is glad!