Nobody Really Loves me

I picked up my backpack and walked down the boat ramp to the village of Pinagbayanan! The warm water splashed into me as I was greeted by several of the students that I had met and become friends with before. We walked down the path between the flowers and fences together and I noticed that only a few things had changed. It was good to be back!
The remainder of the morning I spent unpacking and arranging my things while visiting with the children. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and I sought out Mercy-the only one of the missionaries I had known before that was left.
We talked for a little bit and then I spit out my question. "Ma'am Mercy, where are my students?" I hadn't seen a single one of them since I had gotten there!
She looked at the ground and shuffled the sand with her shoes and I knew something was wrong.
"What's wrong? Where are they?" I asked again.
Slowly she looked up and said "I don't really know, Jennessa. They just disappeared one by one over the last couple of years."
That evening I searched everywhere. I went to every house in the village and asked if anyone had any idea where they were. Some mentioned Batangas and others Manila, but most of the time they only shook their heads sadly and said "Hindi ko alam, ma'am."

Early the next morning I packed my backpack and took a boat to Mamburao and from there I took a van to the ferry and I made my way to Manila. I arrived there mid-afternoon and began to walk the streets of Manila in search of my students.
It was so hot the sweat poured off of me. The sounds of the traffic and voices of the rich and the poor mingled in my ears. I passed by so many beggars and so many poor selling their few things from the carts that also served as their houses, but didn't find my students.

At last I saw him, sitting on the edge of the side walk with a basket of things to sell. I crossed the traffic as soon as I could and walked over to where he was. Like all the other poor, he didn't look up. I sat down beside him and said "Nonoy, Zebede!" and he looked up. His face filled with mixed emotions and then in shame he looked away. I said his name again and he turned his eyes to me.
"Nonoy, why are you here?" I asked.
He looked at his toes and said shyly "Because...nobody really loves me, ma'am."
We talked a while and I asked him if he knew where his classmates where. He stood to his feet and said "Follow me." so I did.

We wound our way through the maze of man, vehicles, dogs and tables of wares until we came to one of the saddest spots of any city-the place where poor, young girls, desperate to make enough money to survive, sell themselves. I looked at the faces of the few waiting there and one in particular stood out too me. She was so young and beautiful, and suddenly through those dark brown, pain-filled eyes shot a look of recognition.
"Ma'am-oh ma'am! You're here now again!" She ran to me, threw her arms around me and held on, crying.
"Angel! I've missed you so much! Why are you here, little sister?" I could hardly believe it was true.
Through her tears she answered "Because, ma'am. Nobody really loves me."


We walked on and on until we came to an even dumpier, dirtier part of Manila. Angel and I followed Nonoy over the filth until we came to a small bar. Nonoy walked right in, and I followed. There, in a dark, smokey corner on the left I saw a boy-his head resting on his knees-and I knew him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said his name softly. He looked at me through cloudy eyes and then grasped my arm and held it tightly. "Ma'am...I...."
"Angelito!" I said again, "Why are you here?"
"Because..." he paused.
"Dahil sa ano?" I said.
"Because nobody really loves me, ma'am."

Again we found ourselves on the street, making our way along it. The darkness was falling quickly as we walked from street to street. Suddenly, out of the shadows came a small, ragged form. His scrawny hand stretched out in front of my face and I thought to look away. I knew if I gave one beggar money thirty more could appear out of the darkness to ask of me, and I didn't have enough money or enough time for them all. But just before I looked away he said "Ma'am...I'm so very hungry, ma'am!" and I looked into those eyes and realized that he wasn't a stranger.
Waren! Of all the boys in the village I knew he would become something great! He had a will for right and a fight for success! It was almost like he was my own little boy....and here he was, on the streets of Manila-begging!
I reached down into my pocket and pulled out some money but before handing it to him I said "Waren!" and he looked up into my face. "Ma'am! ! Ma'am I prayed always for you but you never come back..."
"Waren, why are you here?" I questioned, and his eyes dropped to the ground.
"Because....nobody really loves me..."

And again we walked the dirty streets...we searched here and there, but in the darkness it was almost impossible to find anyone!
I knew I could never live with myself, even if I had 4 out of 5 of my students! I had to find my one, last, missing treasure.
Just as it seemed like all hope was gone and I'd have to continue looking tomorrow or.....or give up....give up and have an empty spot-a hole just the size for him to fit in-left in my heart, we walked toward the rows of bikes waiting to take the last passengers for the night. They all called out to us, wanting our business, and then one rough looking young man walked toward me and stood face to face with me. I felt a little bit of apprehension because of his behavior, but then he said softly, "Ma'am....You remember me-Japeth-your kuya?" and now I had to make myself believe that the boy behind this rough exterior was my gentle, tender hearted, fun loving oldest boy-Shem! I started to cry and he said "Ma'am! Don't cry ma'am!! Why do you cry now?"
" Kuya Shem, why, why are you here?!"
And I heard those words again-"Because Ma'am, nobody really loves me."

I turned to look at them in the light of a nearby building...the faces of those hurting kids that no body really loved...for one last time. If I had known they were the drunkards, the beggars, the prostitutes and the man barely making a living by driving his bike-if only I had known!-I would've never passed a beggar by-the ones who are there because nobody really loves them...and here I was, proving it true every time I said 'no' and walked away...

And I awoke.