Night

By Jezrell Allida

I can hear the trembling of guitar strings. It coincides with the shivering voices of young fellows, joyous at their mellow. “The chorus of carols seems to fill the night with magnificence and glamour,” I said to myself as I walked slowly toward the breeze that blew violently. I then gaze upon the dark sky tinted with the glimmering stars. How beautiful it was! The lights of different colors dazzle in my eyes. They are dancing to my delight! The biting cold softens down my tolerance. It is inevitable back then and I have to pass through the lamp-lit street. However, the way home is a little dark. The moon shines up in the heavens above, illuminating the golden carpet of rice fields below. This time, this sight is about to be reaped and harvested like our world, I think. I feel something is about to come. A festiveness celebrated by us. A season of sharing and giving, I suppose.

I turn my back and the breeze blows peacefully. The rushing of leaves tap my feet and so I stare on it for a while. I feel something has fallen before me. To my inspection, a piece of paper sinks into the picture. I pick it up, unroll and read quietly. It is a letter addressed to Santa and curiosity sends me reading the next lines. Probably, a preschooler wrote it - few misspelled words and a childlike penmanship. It seems to be an ordinary letter but as I read it, it seems that something more is to be expected. To my surprise, the writer asked for everyday to be Christmas. I can’t help but smile as I close the note, rolling it again. As expected from a child who only looks forward to the wonders of life far from the reality adults are facing of, I think to myself. At the back of my head, a memory of the past comes to existence. A panorama of my childish days changes the present dark way into a house, lightened with incandescent bulb. Once a night, I wrote something addressed to my dear friend Santa and asked that Christmas will be forever so I could receive gifts everyday. How childish I was! It is so wonderful to be a child, to be on those good olden days where the world goes round and round. Those simple things I’m looking for gave me happiness in those good olden days.

Then reality seeps in. The coldness of the night once again makes me shiver hard. I continue walking and as I pass the old acacia tree, a boy runs toward me. He then asks if I saw a paper on my way and so I hand the letter to him. He smiles contentedly and graciously in reply. He said “Thank you manong! I thought I lost it but if I did, it doesn’t matter. My wish will come true anyway.” In a split of second, the boy runs away from me until he disappears from my eyes. I’m standing, still and alone. The wind blows again, mildly and calmly. Only from that point I realize why I keep on asking something from Santa. Why do I keep on wishing Christmas to stay forever? Why do I keep on walking on this way home, gazing upon the sky filled with stars as I hear songs of Christmas carols? It is because I believe I would find true happiness. I always believe in things I wish for, that someday, it would be a reality. Someday, it will be my future and my life.

To my surprise, I’m just a few walks away from the very door of our house. My little brother approaches me as I enter the house. He then asks me what he would write to Santa Claus this Christmas. I then smile at him. I ask him, do you believe in what you are wishing for?