Never stop dreaming

THIS WEEK’S WINNER

Vladimir B. Centeno is taking up BS Communications Technology Management at Ateneo. He is a member of Amigos del Pais, an unofficial school organization that he and his friends founded. They visit historical and cultural places in Metro Manila in the hope of kindling in Ateneans a love for the country’s heritage.

When I was in elementary, my school held an annual Literature Week that aimed to promote reading among students. This is the week when the children would bring their storybooks to school, dress up as their favorite characters, and plead their moms to buy the thick science books sold at the book fair even if they barely understood the contents.

It was always a fun and exciting week for all the kids in school except for a few who didn’t really enjoy reading as a pastime. And that little lot included me. I’m not much of a bookworm. I always brought a worn-out copy of The Ugly Duckling that I had since preschool, always made do with an old elf costume, and never bought anything from the book fair except for a P20 cookbook that I gave to my grandmother as a gift. It wasn’t until I got home that I found out the book was in Italian. That was the most participative I got during Literature Week. However, during this week when I slack off, I also read a book I consider to be my first favorite.

It was in the second grade. My reading teacher tasked us to make colorful handmade badges of our favorite storybook characters. I immediately thought of the ugly duckling but who wants to wear an ugly duckling on his chest? I didn’t want people to think that my badge reflected myself so I decided to borrow a book from the library and quickly read through it.

I chanced upon Roald Dahl’s James and the Giant Peach. It was thick and it scared me. However, the colorful cover illustration invited me to take a peek inside. And so I did. I retreated in a corner and began reading the first few pages. The next thing I knew I was already checking the book out of the library.

So what kept me reading the book and turning the pages so eagerly? It was just a simple story about a little boy’s adventure with seven overgrown bugs in an extremely huge peach. Well, I guess it was because I was able to relate to little James’ loneliness. In the story, he was orphaned at a very young age. Coincidentally, my parents passed away when I was still a baby. My father died of heart attack when I was a year old and my mother followed three years after due to kidney failure. Though I have absolutely no memory of my father and I barely remember my mother, I still feel, up to now, that cold and empty stab of loneliness. A child must have his parents. Ideally, they must be there to guide him as he grows up, to give him strength, to make him feel loved and special. They should be teaching him how to ride a bike or help him color his school assignments. Unfortunately, not every child is lucky enough to have a complete and ideal family. There is me and there is James.

As I read the book and lost myself deeper in the story, I noticed how loneliness never succeeded in drawing James into hopelessness. Like how every child should be, he is filled with hopes and dreams despite experiencing adversities a boy his age must not encounter. From these dreams he draws the strength to surpass the challenges that face him. And I thought it would be best for me to do the same.

Though I never had and never will have to encounter a swarm of killer sharks, an angry mob of “Cloud-Men” and two oppressive aunts, I still experienced a lot of problems during my childhood years. They may be trifles as I look back at them now but for a little kid, the pettiest difficulties can mean the hardest of times. And when I was at that age, teasing and bullying were nightmares.

I was often teased as a weakling in class because I was thin and short. Nobody wanted me as a group mate during games and physical activities. And my frail stature made the bigger students think that they could push me around just like how Aunt Sponge and Aunt Spiker would treat poor little James. One may say that a lot of kids go through this stage and it’s quite normal but, to be honest, teasing and bullying are twice as hard to cope with when you don’t have any parents to run to when you end up crying.

However, like James, instead of giving up on the problem, I tried to view things differently. It was better to focus on my strengths than let myself wallow in the misery of what I’m short of. I kept in mind that there must be one way or another for me to be the best.

So I made up for what I lacked physically with my excellent academic and extracurricular performance. I joined various elocution, writing and art contests. I won some, the rest I was happy just to have given my best. Most of my successes in grade school were born out of my participation in our theater club. I got the chance to perform in a remote province and to appear on morning television. I also landed a supporting role during my last year in the club. These are things I never would have experienced if it weren’t for my aspiration to be better and to give more. And even if my parents weren’t there to pin my medals and give me congratulatory kisses or to watch my plays, I knew they were happy and proud of me wherever they were.

Because of the inspiration James gave me, he immediately became my badge for that Literature Week. That badge served as a reminder that I should never stop dreaming. No one should ever do that. Certainly, there will be a lot of difficulties that will come your way but it is during these times that you can find the best in yourself. And even if the badge was already thrown away along with the other old school stuff, the lesson James taught me remained in the very spot where the badge once was, my heart.

Now that I’m about to finish college, I believe I’m already too old to be reading children’s stories but never too old to dream.