I turned on the Filipino news story on TV to find a segment about how CNN featured poverty in the Philippines. You’re only catching up now, CNN?
I watched anyway, even if I already knew it. Because as it turns out, I didn’t know things have gotten even worse.
The segment showed families going through other people’s rubbish, looking for food. I know this isn’t new but these people were looking for meat rubbish – you know, the bits we chop off and throw in the bin? Like innards, meat bones and fish bits. The woman said she’s going to wash it. They showed her washing the meat bits and putting it in a wok, and feeding it to the kids.
I couldn’t help but let out an “Oh my god”, enough for my daughter to notice the distress in my voice.
So she asked why I was worried.
For a moment, I battled whether or not to introduce the ugly things in life to my little angel whose only issue is whether or not she can watch Octonauts all day.
I decided to tell her.
I told her that there are kids in the Philippines who don’t have homes, who don’t have much to eat, or anything to eat at all, who don’t have toys or parents who love them.
“The Philippines we went to where your mum and your dad lives, called Lolo and Lola?” was her little question.
“Maybe we should give them clothes, and toys and food,” she said in her little worried voice.
I held in tears because those words were so familiar. I used to say that when I was around her age. I’d imagine growing up, having a great job, being so rich that I could adopt a couple of those kids and give them a better life.
I gave my little one a cuddle. Even though she’s battling a fever, she still wanted to help other kids she doesn’t even know.
My heart feels like it’s about to burst. I am so proud of my little one.