Faith

I was nine or ten years old when I last set foot on Malacanang. Back then, my parents were still serving time at Camp Bago Bantay - a price they were made to pay for more than a decade of revolutionary work against the Marcos rule.

I remember writing to then president Cory Aquino requesting the release of my parents from detention. The letter was written honest and direct, in the way only nine year-olds can write. I cited the only reason I could find. That it was difficult not having my parents around to look after my brother and me.

Maybe it was because Mrs. Aquino recognized that I was just a kid who’s entitled to parental guidance, or maybe it was really time for my parents’ release, I’m not sure. It was all just so sudden that I found myself summoned to Malacanang, among other political prisoners’ children. I have no recollection of what went on during that unusual meeting. All I can remember was the pledge made to free my parents -- and the fulfillment of that pledge.

My story is not unlike that of the three boys who wrote their requests in paper boats and let them float toward Malacanang. Their efforts, like mine didn’t go in vain probably because we had one thing in common. Our youth has made it possible to dream big and faith made it easy to act on that dream.

But the story doesn’t end there. The big difference now is that I’m not a child anymore, and can’t afford to believe in such dreams. The image of Malacanang as magical place where any wish can be granted no longer exists in my mind. In place of it, is a tightly secured facility where decisions, not necessarily good, have to be made according to the influence of a person, or group of people who demand it. I do not know everything that goes on inside but I know enough to understand that for every request granted something is sacrificed. That’s the downside of growing up. Learning what a particular thing can do limits one’s ability to imagine it doing anything else.

Then again, when a story like that of the three boys turns up, I can’t help but be thankful for the children’s sake that they can still be hopeful. I had that same faith once. I may not be as hopeful now, but as I look at Malacanang and think that once upon a time it fulfilled my dream. I know there’s a glimmer of hope that it can make another child’s dream come true.