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ON THE WRITE PATH
Last night, as I was getting in my car, a street kid came up to me, so I gave him some coins. He then said, “Kuya, pwedeng akin na lang yan ballpen mo?” (Sir, is it okay if you just give me your pen?) The kid pointed at the pen in my breast pocket.
I held on to the pen. Despite the fact it was a typical sign pen I could easily get in National Bookstore, I was very particular about that pen. I get attached to such small things and really hate it when I loose it without having used up all the ink.
So, I asked the kid why I should give him my pen.
He held up a dog-eared notebook that had the HULK on the cover and said, “Wala akong pangsulat, eh.” (I don’t have anything to write with.)
“Oh… okay…” I said and gave him my pen.
The kid smiled, said thanks, and ran back to his friends across the street.
On the way home, I thought about the kid and hoped, that maybe, God willing, he will grow up to become a great writer.
ON THE WRITE PATH
Last night, as I was getting in my car, a street kid came up to me, so I gave him some coins. He then said, “Kuya, pwedeng akin na lang yan ballpen mo?” (Sir, is it okay if you just give me your pen?) The kid pointed at the pen in my breast pocket.
I held on to the pen. Despite the fact it was a typical sign pen I could easily get in National Bookstore, I was very particular about that pen. I get attached to such small things and really hate it when I loose it without having used up all the ink.
So, I asked the kid why I should give him my pen.
He held up a dog-eared notebook that had the HULK on the cover and said, “Wala akong pangsulat, eh.” (I don’t have anything to write with.)
“Oh… okay…” I said and gave him my pen.
The kid smiled, said thanks, and ran back to his friends across the street.
On the way home, I thought about the kid and hoped, that maybe, God willing, he will grow up to become a great writer.