Chapter XXIII: Gifts
It is late afternoon in Caluipat, the sun painting the sala with golden light. Mercy sits in her favorite chair, holding a worn leather wallet. The wallet is brown, polished by years of handling, and right in front, embossed carefully, is a single word:
"Mercy."
She traces her finger over the letters, smiling. The memory comes back vividly.
That wallet wasn't bought by her. It was a gift.
From Meric, Ben, and little Mark.
It was during their trip to Baguio, last December.
Mercy chuckles quietly. "Ah, those three... they think I don't know how expensive this was."
Just as she's about to sink fully into memory, the front door opens.
Meric walks in, hair messy, cheeks slightly flushed from the short walk. She's just come back from the store—Ben had returned from work, so it's her turn to rest.
"Ay, Mang! You still staring at that wallet?" she teases, putting her bag on the side table.
Mercy raises an eyebrow. "Apay kuma? (Why not?) You three gave this to me."
The sight of the wallet triggers something in Meric's mind too. She pauses, eyes softening. "Yeah... Baguio."
And she drifts into her own flashback.
The air is cold, almost biting. Meric, Ben, and Mark arrive in the highlands, wrapped in jackets that are still not enough to shield them from the mountain chill. They are here because of Ben's board exam.
For three days, while Ben struggles in silence inside exam halls, Meric and Mark explore the city like wanderers.
They stroll at Burnham Park, Mark drinks some Porroro Juice from SM Baguio, and Meric buy cheap knitted bonnets from vendors. At Mines View, Mark insists on trying the cowboy hat, looking too proud while the horse beside him looks bored. They also shoot some pics at the St. Bernard dogs.
At night, back at the hotel they are staying in, Meric and Mark huddle under thick blankets, shivering but laughing at each other's foggy breaths.
When Ben finally finishes the exam, his face is long. Another try, another uncertain result. Still, they meet at the steps of Baguio Cathedral. The grand church towers above, its spires piercing the cold blue sky.
Standing at the corner of the street, the three talk. Their laughter blends with the honking jeepneys and chatter of passersby.
And as they laugh, white smoke puffs rise from their mouths into the air, making them look like tiny dragons.
Mark giggles uncontrollably. "Look, Mommy! I'm a dragon!"
Ben rolls his eyes. "If you're a dragon, then I'm already frozen meat."
The memory is warm despite the cold.
The flashback ends, and back to present
Meric shakes her head, smiling faintly. "Those were good days, Mang."
Mercy nods, sliding the wallet back into her bag. "Yes. Now go cook us dinner before I eat this wallet instead hehehe."
Meric groans but obeys, heading to the kitchen.
The next morning, Mercy spends time in the garden. With careful hands, she plants a Red Coleus, its colorful leaves glowing in shades of red and green.
Wiping sweat from her forehead, she goes inside, calls out: "Mark! Pang! Come here. Let's pray the rosary."
They sit together in the sala, beads clicking softly. Mercy leads, her voice steady. Mark responds with perfect timing, his childlike voice giving the prayers a purity that makes Mercy's chest swell with pride.
And then, memory sneaks in again.
When Apo Ina came with the Ina Poonbato devotees, they were astonished by Mark.
"Naglaing! (Very good!)" one woman exclaimed. At such a young age, Mark not only knew all the mysteries of the rosary but could recite the Latin Hail Mary flawlessly.
"Ave Maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. Benedictus fructus ventris tui Iesus. Sancta Maria Mater Dei, Ora Pro nobis..." Mark had said, like a little seminarian.
Some whispered, "He could be a priest one day."
But Mark shook his head firmly. "No, lola. I will serve God, but not as a priest."
The devotees laughed, impressed by his clarity.
Back to present and now, as Mercy listens to her grandson pray, her heart overflows. Unlike other kids who already disregard religion, she thinks. I am blessed. Truly blessed.
Some days, Mercy and Rico tackle the task nobody likes: cleaning the open canal in front of their house.
Armed with sticks, gloves, and sacks, they scoop out leaves, wrappers, and muck. Rico even steps into the shallow part, muttering dramatically, "If I don't come back, remember me as a hero!"
"Hoy, don't be silly!" Mercy snaps, though she chuckles.
Meric wants to help, but they shoo her away. "No, you stay clean. Me and your Papang got this."
But the canal proves dangerous.
One afternoon, a tricycle suddenly plunges straight into it with a loud crash. The driver yells in shock, half his body soaked in the murky water.
Without hesitation, Ben and Rico rush to help. They lift the vehicle together, muscles straining. Meanwhile, neighbors just stand around, whispering but not moving a finger.
When the tricycle is finally pulled out, Rico shakes his head. "Cowards. Not even one helped."
Mercy just sighs. "That's life. At least you saved the day."
One lazy Sunday, Mercy cooks dinardaraan (dinuguan). The dark stew simmers, smelling both rich and intimidating.
"Mark!" she calls. "Come eat."
Mark frowns at the sight. "It looks... scary."
Rico nudges him. "Just try it. Don't judge food by its color."
With great hesitation, Mark spoons a bite. He chews slowly.
Then his eyes widen. "Naimas met ngayam! (It's delicious all along!)"
Mercy claps her hands, delighted. "See? My apo is growing up. No longer the picky crybaby!"
She remembers how Mark used to bawl at the smallest things—spilled milk, scraped knees, even wrong toy colors. But now? He's stronger, braver, learning.
By the time school ends, Mark completes another examination in the 2nd grade. But, no awards since Mark is still adjusting to the new section.
But to the family, it doesn't matter. They celebrate anyway—with pancit, fried chicken, and ice cream.
Mercy raises a glass. "With Awards or not, we are proud. What matters is you tried your best."
Mark beams, feeling loved.
That same year, a surprise comes: Elric is back from abroad.
He invites everyone to Pantay Este.
With their old tricycle sputtering loudly, Mercy, Rico, Mark, and Meric make the trip. Ben stays behind at the store, and Jonn is on duty at the Provincial Hospital.
When they arrive, Pitang the maid greets them warmly at the gate. Inside, Elric's wife appears, smiling politely.
She calls up the stairs. "Aldric! Adrion! Come down, your relatives are here."
The two boys shuffle down, greeting them shyly.
Then Elric himself steps out of his office, arms wide. "Mang! Pang! Good to see y'all!"
Mercy and Rico smile faintly. "Yes, yes, good to see you too."
Dinner is lively. Laughter, stories, the sound of cutlery. Halfway through, Jonn shows up, still in his uniform, straight from the hospital. Everyone cheers his arrival.
By night's end, they return to Caluipat, bellies full, hearts warm.
Through it all, Mercy realizes one thing: the house is alive. Not just with people, but with history, laughter, and love—woven into every moment, like a story still unfolding.
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