Mrs. Christmas

Yesterday, most of us received more blessings than we could count. I am yielding my space today to Ann Montemar-Oriondo, assistant editor of Allure, who writes about a sector who may not have enjoyed Christmas the way we did. She writes about a person who brings Christmas to the downtrodden the whole year through. Coincidentally, that woman is her mother. And Ann calls her "Mrs. Christmas."

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It was just one in a string of Christmas parties but it turned out to be the most meaningful for me.

The merienda was simple–puto, monay, soft drinks and dinuguan. All the food–and all the gifts distributed that afternoon–had been given by generous donors.

The venue was even simpler with the lone fluorescent lamp in the receiving area conking out every now and then. It was cramped and hot inside but there was no mistaking the Christmas spirit in the wide smiles and laughter of those there and the hearty singing of Christmas songs.

The Catholic Women’s League (CWL) of the Parish of St. Francis Xavier in our hometown of Nasugbu, Batangas had organized the party for the 75 inmates and prison guards of the Nasugbu municipal jail.

My mother, Dr. Rose Montemar, a CWL member whose special apostolate these past years has been serving our town’s jail inmates, had invited me to join in the fun. She has been visiting the inmates almost daily to teach catechism and to counsel them, failing to do so only when she is ill or if she has a pressing appointment. That afternoon as we partied I again marveled watching my mom, she who for me personifies the Christmas spirit.

Even if she were not my mom, I’ve always admired Mama Rose for the way she reaches out not only to inmates but to anyone else she feels she can help. After retiring from 16 years of serving our town as its rural health physician, Mama Rose, who will turn 74 in February, feels blessed that good health has allowed her to continue, she says, "helping others in my own little way."

"We all complain about our world being this or that," she once told me, "but what are we doing about it? We say we want to change the world but wonder how. I believe it is by starting right in our own backyards and among those people who could well be called ‘the least of our brethren’."

One reason Mama Rose has a special place in her heart for the prisoners, she says, is because they represent, in a way, the most marginalized of our society. "Christ himself said," she explains, " ‘I did not come to save the virtuous but the sinners’. Prisoners in this way are a special challenge and responsibility for society."

I know my mom meant this from the bottom of her heart, which has always been oriented in a particularly caring way. I vividly recall one early morning when she roused the whole household and told us to prepare breakfast in a jiffy. For there in our house were no less than 30 Mangyan tribe members, both children and adults. Mama Rose had met them on her way from church. She had asked them if they had breakfast, and since they had none, she had invited them to eat in our home.

My mom is like that–she sees "small" needs and finds ways to make a difference. Once she told me, "You know I truly appreciate the work our priests are doing for us. Without them, how would we receive the sacraments? Who would minister to people and spread the faith?" So in appreciation, she tirelessly asks neighbors and friends for donations of rice or for the tuition of seminarians, which she sends to the minor seminary in Lipa. (There are invariably sacks of rice in our living room at any one given time!) More importantly, she has nurtured long-standing friendships with priests, nuns, and seminarians, encouraging them and assisting them however much she can, genuinely believing in the significant roles they play.

I also don’t know how she does it, for our pockets are not deep, but Mama Rose has managed to send a number of deserving poor students to school. When they come and visit us during Christmas time, years after they have graduated, I am touched listening to them thank my mom, who doesn’t make a big deal of it, saying that helping should be the most natural thing anyone should do.

"In little ways," as Mama Rose puts it, means visiting and comforting one’s friends or relatives or neighbors when they are ill, holding their hands until their last breath. It means consoling their families, being physically present, praying with them during wakes and burials. It means foregoing little luxuries like bags or clothes if it will mean making a student’s field trip possible or helping her purchase school supplies. It might even mean driving all the way to Manila to help a sick patient check in a hospital just so he or she doesn’t get overwhelmed by details and red tape ("Iba pag may doktor silang kasama," she always says). And as has been the case since as far as I can recall, it might even mean tirelessly asking others for donations if your own resources do not suffice.

"You don’t have to do anything spectacular to serve God or others," Mama Rose always says. "If there’s a need, fill it the best way you can."

I don’t think I am biased in admiring my mom the way I do. For though she does not trumpet it, other people have noted her tireless efforts, too. Though our family was overjoyed when Mama Rose received the Papal Award Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice from His Holiness Pope John Paul II in l981, Mama Rose felt it meant assuming an even deeper sense of obligation to continue what she had been doing all along.

I surmise that being a doctor, Mama Rose knows this only too well–just as a dextrose saves lives and infuses strength drop by tiny drop, we all can make a difference deed by little kind deed.

So while we open presents and eat and become merry this season, the celebration will be superficial, I believe, if we don’t include "the least of our brethren" in our festivities. Though Ann Landers may have once said, "The true measure of character is when you help those who can give you absolutely nothing in return," you’d be surprised by how sharing with those "who can give you absolutely nothing in return" can change and enrich our hearts.

Just ask Mama Rose.

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