The Greatest Power of All

Anyone who has passed by this street on one side of a downtown university would have seen this young man. And one would have been irritated by him, for sure. He looks bad, and behaves even worse.

He’s a barker for jeepneys passing by the street. He is loud, as a barker should be. But the worse thing about him is his brashness – his total lack of any semblance of manners.

At one time he made fun of a frail old woman who was having difficulty getting on the jeepney. On a rainy afternoon, he thumped his foot on the flooded roadside sending dirty splashes at stranded students in white uniforms. As if his obnoxious smell was not enough offense to anyone who’d come close.

His hair is grossly unkempt and damp. His face bears smudges of dirt from the pavement where he sleeps at night and at any time of day when he feels like. The color of the rest of the exposed parts of his body doesn’t differ much from that of his tattered clothing that has turned dark grey with grunge.

The guy is such a pest, sorry to say. He seems to like to pick on anyone he comes upon – like he’s always looking for trouble.

Late afternoon last week, he came upon me. I’d just finished my meal at a carinderia in the vicinity when I saw him approaching. He overtook me in approaching the cashier as I was about to pay.

In a surprisingly hushed voice, the young man asked to buy P5 worth of rice. The cashier refused; rice was at P10 a serving. He haggled; P5 was all the money he had.

The cashier tried to ignore him. She called out to me, “Seventy-five, sir.” I handed P100 to her.

The guy, now slightly to my side, was looking down all the while. I could smell his hard life. The lines of dirt around his neck evoked my hunch.

As the cashier had given me my P25 change, I discreetly slipped it into the man’s hand. It would have probably embarrassed him if I did it openly. Then I quickly left the place.

I had not gotten far when I sensed that the man followed me. When I turned, he looked down quickly like he didn’t want me to see his face. He raised his hand – revealing the P25 that I gave him.

He was probably asking, in his mind, what the little amount meant. Did it mean that he was worth the generosity? Did it mean that I was a generous person? Or did it mean that such little money was an extra I didn’t have need for?

Finally, he looked at me. I saw a different creature. It was no pest – it was, like me, a human being.

Flashing a smile was all I could do at the moment. I didn’t know what to say, what to tell him. But perhaps he heard me just the same, for he smiled back… tears welling up in his eyes.

I patted his shoulder and went away. I didn’t look back. And we were soon both lost in the darkening dusk.

The image of the man that I should avoid has become a memory I cherish. It is a reminder for me that “people hide, but they want to be discovered.”  That man and I have discovered each other.

Many of us, for lack of better ideas, hide in ugly shells that only isolate us further from the rest. Tawdry behavior, rash language, and grubby appearance are covers that some people conveniently resort to in order to hide their innate softness and vulnerability. In doing so they inadvertently stifle their humanity – their greatest power of all!