Homeward Glance

It was on a summer morning when we, along with ten other families, received That Letter. Aside from electric bills and water bills, we don’t usually receive letters. That Letter was enclosed in an envelope. Our bills aren’t enclosed in an envelope. But That Letter, it was different, at least for people like us.

 That Letter was brought to us by a Decent-Looking Man. A lawyer!  My heart pounded. Lawyers don’t come here. 

Hearing the voices around me, I realized why that Decent-Looking Man came with a letter in his hand. For the last sixteen years, we dreaded That Letter. All our lives, we had hoped for the delay of That Letter.
Papa hurried towards the crowd. Mama, too. I walked nearing my friends whose families were there, too. My friends and I, we were never serious children. We laughed about almost everything. Last year, when a typhoon hit our city, we laughed at our conditions. Every day, we would laugh at weird people crossing the street. We laughed at most things. This time though, it felt awkward how not a single one of us can even crack a joke.

I looked at my mother, and my father, and my friends’ mothers and fathers, and I saw that they were horrified. Of course, all of us knew about That Day, we just didn’t expect That Day to be today.

The Decent-Looking man did not stay for long. His eyes travelled from our faces to our houses. I caught him shaking his head. Then, he left. It was when he got inside his car when understood. People were saying something. They uttered words I didn’t really have to think so hard to understand. After all, I grew up knowing about this. Some nights before we go to sleep, I would hear Mama and Papa talk about many matters which always included what That Piece of Paper contained.

It said that we’re given a month to prepare. That the land owner couldn’t pay us. That the sons of the land owner decided to use the land for commercial purposes. Thirty days. When I was younger, June was the shortest month for me. Now, thirty days seemed like a day.

That summer, I learned how, given the right circumstances, a single day could ruin people’s lives. After all those years that passed, I still find it funny how certain situations could turn people into different people. Take for instance Uncle James. I have always looked at him with a certain kind of respect. But because of That Letter, he kneeled down to Mr. Lim, the land owner. Uncle James kneeling down is something I would not wish to see. Ever. But I saw him there.

I’m a grown up lady now. Changes happened. I am living quite comfortably. Unlike before when we were tagged as ‘informal settlers’, when we did not know when we’d have to look for some place elsewhere to live, to start our lives all over again. But if the possibilities allowed, I’d choose that same place all over again, the very place we dearly loved and hated at the same time.

My friends and I, we were never serious children back then. However, five years after the cops and some other guys destroyed what our parents have built, we came back and felt wonderfully different. What remained are the ruins and some memories we have held close in our hearts. Yet, it is liberating to know that at least for some time in our lives, we held something perfect.

We could have bought that piece of land and remained neighbors forever but we were children and there’s nothing we could have done, or our parents could have done that time. We have our own homes now and we are nothing short of happy. But this place will always be home to us.

The beer tasted delicious that night and as we drank our portion, we remembered and honored the magical bond we shared as neighbors, as childhood friends. As children, we knew that That Land could be taken from us any time. It’s the Lim’s. Yet, in our childish hearts, we know who really owned it.