What is in a light

The previous week has been filled with invitations left and right, either for yearend gatherings or to witness the lighting of their Christmas trees. There is no denying that we are now at the supposed most wonderful time of the year: Christmas. However, as usual, we are often pushed by the different events that need to be accomplished before the year ends. It becomes more of an administrative task to comply rather than an opportunity to truly enjoy the essence of time spent together. My attention, instead, is often drawn to the twinkling Christmas lights that seem to quietly remind us of what the season is truly about.

Just as Cebu Archbishop Alberto Uy mentioned in his recent appeal, most institutions now are practicing austerity in light of the multiple calamities that have hit Cebu. Everything is toned down from the start, ensuring that nothing gets wasted along the way. This includes even the lights on every decoration. Yet, to me, these tiny points of illumination symbolize hope in every Cebuano story. They shine despite the darkness, subtle but persistent reminders that life continues and that there is something to look forward to.

Hope can be found in the smallest of gestures. Take, for instance, a woman from earthquake-stricken Bogo City who recently won a million pesos on a television game show. She was honest about earning only a few thousand pesos a month, working in the barangay, and that her home had been reduced to ruins. The host willfully let her win the prize in what seems to be a tweaked question that would be easier for her to answer. In another twist, the show’s hosts also pledged to pool together another million pesos to help other contestants affected by calamities. It was a moment of generosity, unexpected but deeply meaningful.

Many find hope in the second chances afforded to them. This includes families who lost their homes in the floods but chose to remain in the same place, despite the fear that could have easily made them leave. They rebuilt trust alongside their communities, slowly, patiently, like lights that flicker but refuse to go out. Every family that has had to endure deep waters is, in a way, a living light: slow, steady, and determined not to be extinguished, even when circumstances are beyond their control.

There are countless stories from this year alone that could fill pages. It would be an understatement to speak only of resilience when we have been demanding accountability as well. What is truly remarkable is how we, as a people, have decided to face these challenges together, helping one another in whatever ways we can. I think that is what sets Cebuanos apart from those in other regions. We have a grit that we hold dear, strong yet reasonable, unwavering yet adaptable. Perhaps, that is what the lights remind us of each year. It is the quiet, enduring hope that no matter how dark the surroundings may be, we will continue to shine.