By Rex Catubig

 

2,000 years ago, an unlikely birth made the biblical headlines, and subsequently became the matrix of Christianity.

We are familiar with the circumstances of Joseph and Mary’s trek to Bethlehem from their home in Nazareth to comply with an edict for villagers to return to their hometown for registration purposes.

The newly-wed undertook the trip while Mary was in her last trimester of pregnancy—a difficult period in a woman’s child bearing. Because the Arellano road was under repair at the time, the commute was bumpy and dusty, which put Mary at risk for premature delivery.

The rough travel might have induced the prospect of premature birth as soon enough, Mary felt ominous labor pains. Joseph tried using Waze on his CP to search for a nearby puericulture center to check up Mary’s condition. But there was none.

Running low bat, he searched again and there appeared a location of a Mother and Child Hospital but when they reached the place, there was none.

Joseph parked his tired donkey at the Jollibee junction to get some grub. But Mary was restless and was almost writhing in pain, though she tried her best to control her contractions.

Joseph was at a loss what to do or where to go. He asked where the Mother and Child Hospital was. Nobody knew where it was. One vendor he passed by, said there was supposed to be a Mother and Child Hospital which could have been built but it got stuck in politalk: The Dagupan city council bright boys did not think it was worthy of their approval yet they claimed they did not reject it outright. So it remained a pipe dream that might never see the light of the day.

Unable to check in to a hospital dedicated to mothers and their children, he walked along the length of Torres Bugallon, steering his donkey with Mary sitting precariously on the saddle.

Upon reaching the market, Mary couldn’t take the labor pain a second longer. Joseph got her off and walked her to the “baratilyo” where stalls of pre-loved clothes compete for space with the carts of fruits and vegetables, and “banyeras”of bangus close by.

He laid her down gingerly on top of a produce cart and took some “ukay-ukay” clothes to cover her as she writhed in pain. There were no POSO on duty yet, but one “osyoso” had the right mind to call the CDRRMC. Their emergency number was on Facebook.

Within minutes, three rescue team members in an ambulance arrived on the scene. But they were a second late because when they came, their siren was overpowered by the shrill cry of a baby just born.

Little did anyone among the onlookers ever think, that the crying child born amid a heap of fruits and vegetables, surrounded by rows of ukay-ukay and flanked by banyeras of Bonuan bangus,  would someday be himself a fisher of men and in some inexplicable way redeem even the most callous, including those that denied him the comfort, care, and convenience of a Mother and Child Hospital.

It’s not a fair deal. But as humans, we learn to accept that life sucks.

So we just sing Christmas carols, and in some crazy way, dream of White Christmas, blurring the grim reality of unconscionable politics that puts us in harm’s way.

“Pwede naman palang manganak sa palengke“.

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