YESTERDAY, outside my window, choppers buzzed above my head incessantly, ambulance sirens screamed in a frantic rush to pick up and rescue the stranded from wherever they were.

I’m in my mid-40s now, and this is the worst flood I have ever witnessed.

For the first time, I have friends who had family members perched on their rooftops.

A childhood friend still awaits news regarding her 75-year-old mother, who lives in Provident Village, one of the worst-hit areas.

One other classmate got on a Navy boat to pluck her son and in-laws from the roof of their house in the same village, and saved other elderly persons along the way.

A dear friend was stuck in her car for 18 hours with her 10-year-old daughter and practiced self-preservation, wading through the flood to get her child food and to find a bathroom to no avail.

I live only 20 minutes away from Provident, and only two kilometers away from the raging Marikina river. The devastation hit so close to home.

My daughter had one of her dearest friends sleep over because the poor girl could not get home. The waters were chest deep in her village, three kilometers away from Ateneo. As if that were not enough, that same young woman was worried sick about her lola who hung on for dear life on the third floor of a neighbor’s house after “swimming” in floodwaters.

All through Saturday night, in the anxious waiting, we held them all close in prayers, asking God to cover them with His protection, to keep them safe, to stand in the gap between those waiting and those yet to be found.

I have just returned from Ateneo where the college covered courts are a beehive. I was there last night with my family to give our own small share but this morning, my daughter and I decided we would get our hands dirty and volunteer for the assembly lines.

And I was so happy that we did. It’s one thing to donate but to actually work side by side with the kids who were all working tirelessly to put together thousands of bags filled with relief goods was an experience like no other. Seeing their tired but joyful faces made my heart expand.

While Pia and her other block mates helped sort through the mountains of clothes to assemble bags filled with clothing goods for a family of six, I worked side by side with James, one of her group mates, to put together relief bags filled with noodles, biscuits, bottled water and canned goods which were then loaded onto trucks waiting to be deployed to the hardest hit areas in Marikina.

No one complained, everyone did their work with much love and joy. And so the sadness I had felt from viewing all the photographs and videos of the devastation somehow lifted.

I have told my children time and again that because we were spared from the devastation, spared from losing our home or possessions and, more importantly, losing anyone we loved, it was only fitting that we give back for as long as we are able.

Lessons

How does one parent well in a time of calamity? What lessons can we pass on to our children that will never be forgotten?

First of all, I believe that in the worst of times, the best parts of us need to shine forth.

As my friend, director Joey Reyes, puts it, “We may have our follies, we may have our shortcomings—we may not be a lot of things—but as a people... we sparkle in our humanity and our capacity for love and compassion.”

I think the best way to teach compassion and generosity is by example, by actually walking your talk. And what better way to do that than to actually walk and work side by side with your child at a relief center, packing bags, loading them onto trucks, sharing in their work.

It was heartening for me to see families come to the center, mother, father, children (some with matching uniformed yayas, that’s okay, too) joining assembly lines and doing the actual packing. Even the act of going to the supermarket and buying relief goods and delivering them to a shelter or relief center is an exercise the whole family can do.

In a time of calamity your children will also watch and learn from you, how you respond to a crisis situation and how quickly you react to it. And the manner by which you show them is something they will imbibe subconsciously. How can you raise a generation of caring and compassionate, proactive individuals if you are not caring, compassionate and proactive yourself?

Listen also to the words you say, the remarks you make, because all of these will leave an impression. Be kind at all times. Be generous. If you have not enough money or material possessions to spare, time is always something you can give.

Use the situation to highlight what is important in life.

While watching the news and viewing footage of flood-stricken areas, my 11-year-old son was raising a fit over a gadget of his that was missing. I pointed out to him the useless negative energy he was expending by ranting over something inconsequential at the time.

“Look at those people wading in the murky waters on TV. Who do you think has the bigger problem? You or them?” I asked him gently.

Embarrassed by his behavior, he sheepishly said, “Them.” Later on, he spent the rest of the afternoon putting together relief packages with a smile on his face, without a complaint.

If you have had the blessing of being spared from the wrath of Ondoy, may I encourage you to help in whatever way you can, in your own communities or in relief centers close to where you are. Wherever you are, I hope you stretch your hearts and help those most in need.
Pulling together and doing what we can to provide comfort to those who have just experienced their darkest hour make our humanity shine through. For those of us who were spared from the storm, it is only fitting to extend comfort and help for as long as we possibly can. Look around you and be sensitive. The work of rebuilding has only just begun.

E-mail the author at cathybabao@gmail.com