Lesson from Two Kids in the Street
A Tale of Two Innocent Souls, Of Compassion, Of Poverty, and Meaning of Life’s Journey
Not long ago, I stumbled upon an old blog entry I wrote back in 2008. Reading it again felt like opening a time capsule, a moment that still speaks volumes.
At the time, my car was out of service, so I was navigating the chaos of public transport. One morning, under the heat of the sun and running late, I ended up in a jeepney after struggling to find a ride. Sitting quietly, I passed my daughter’s school, reminding myself that our decision to move her and her sibling to a more affordable school was just temporary. Still, the weight of financial pressure sat heavy.
Then, two kids approached the jeepney. A boy, maybe seven, and his little sister, no older than four. Dirty, tattered, and clearly hungry. The boy clutched a tin can, ready to beg or perform. The smell hit, and like most passengers, I instinctively looked away. The driver quickly shooed them off, but the boy insisted, showing coins. “We can pay,” he said, trying to claim dignity where others saw none.
The driver snapped back: “Keep your money. How can you pay when you can barely eat?”
Before I could even react to offer help, the kids were gone, off to the next jeepney. But something stayed with me, the little girl's eyes. They reminded me of my own child.
Watching them disappear into the crowd made my own worries feel small. I remembered my own childhood in a poor neighborhood, scavenging with friends for scraps to sell. It hurt to realize how easily I’d forgotten that part of my story.
That day, I was reminded: compassion shouldn’t be selective. The world is deeply unequal, some feast while others fight just to survive. We can’t fix everything, but we can choose to care, to act, to see.
It’s easy to judge. Harder to understand. But that’s what we’re called to do, to open our eyes, and more importantly, our hearts.
"Children are the living messages of the time we will not see." - John F. Kennedy