“Estrellita, the little wishing star,” a Carlos Palanca award-winning children’s book, tells of how the paths of Estrellita, one of the millions of stars in the sky who dreamed to make someone happy, and Noel, a sick orphan boy who wished to see his mother he had never seen, had crossed. This kind of magical moment, of having a wish come true on Christmas, perhaps resonates well to us wanderers with our ever-present sense of longing and of wishing for home.
As we embrace the spirit of Christmas wherever we are posted in, we endeavor to infuse our Filipino traditions to every place we call home. Every celebration may be different, yet every experience is always distinct from the other. In Hong Kong, for example, where there is a large Filipino community, we had the pleasure of attending Simbang Gabi. The presence of church servers and choir composed of predominantly kababayans felt very much like home. Christmas Day was always a gastronomical treat when friends brought or sent us Filipino delicacies that we would feast on for days.
What enlivened our celebrations in Beijing were the family parties hosted by our then Ambassador Sonia Cataumber Brady, a tradition that was carried on by her successor, Ambassador Francisco Benedicto. As a mother of two young children uprooted from home, I thought that such gatherings allowed them to appreciate vignettes of a typical Filipino merrymaking, accentuated with well-prepared programs where familiar Christmas carols were sung or danced along with.
The revelry was always sprinkled with games, a spread of dishes straight from the embassy kitchen and from our respective homes and the much-anticipated exchange of gifts. This event highlight was always met with either delight or dread, especially by those who wished to not have another nicely-wrapped mug landing on their laps.
While the general surroundings in Beijing’s wintery streets were not as festive as we imagined them in Manila, within the halls of the embassy, the spirit was very much alive. One particular Christmas was extraordinarily enchanting, when our embassy façade was elegantly adorned with dazzling lanterns specially crafted and flown in from Pampanga.
A similar set decorated Beijing’s Nan Tang or South Cathedral. We took pride in telling stories about the parols to our Chinese and expatriate co-parishioners, explaining how the iconic Christmas symbol evolved from a simple star made of bamboo sticks and a special type of paper called papel de japon (similar to a parchment paper that come in various colors) to artisanal world-class decors made of capiz shells.
On many nights during that Christmas season, passersby and motorists stood or stopped in awe to admire our Philippine-crafted parols that shone brightly on freezing December nights outside our embassy or at church. I wish that the spirit of the three magi, who followed the mystic star more than 2000 years ago, somehow rubbed off on those curious onlookers who appreciated our parols.
Realizing the significance of promoting this unique symbol of our culture, our former Permanent Representative to ASEAN, Ambassador Elizabeth Buensuceso, thought of parol making as the central activity in one of the Christmas parties we hosted for the ASEAN Women’s Circle in Jakarta. Even before he could attend his first meeting at the ASEAN headquarters, our then newly posted officer Atty. JP Samonte gamely demonstrated and instructed the very excited audience how to assemble the bamboo sticks, shape them into a star and decorate it into a parol. The ladies were very attentive and competitive because the groups with the best parols received generous prizes. In appreciation of everyone’s effort, the competing teams’ masterpieces were used to decorate the Philippine Mission for the rest of the Christmas holiday.
When I think of how our world is hurting now, I look back at that particular December day in our chancery. Ladies in predominantly red and green hijab worked as teams with other women clad in their respective national costumes or chic attires, fashioning the best star they could create. It was special because one of the criteria was for the parol to reflect the message of peace, a theme that needs an urgent drumbeating and fruition amidst our current wounded world.
Depending on how one views “the most wonderful time of the year,” in cosmopolitan New York, all around Manhattan especially the aura is overpowering. Gauging from how the stylish stretch of Fifth Avenue is decked and how crowds fill up the streets, especially at night when designer shops are lit, a New York Times commentary said that the pre-pandemic Christmas atmosphere is back. Tourists have flocked in, hotels are fully booked and restaurants are always full. Somewhere in Times Square giant screens are screaming with advertisements and commercials. But a tender video stands out and has gone viral, because as one friend commented, it displays the true meaning of Christmas.
Within New York’s clatter, glamor and glitter is the yearning for serenity while celebrating the holidays in what my son calls “an overwhelming city.” My family tempered the atmosphere by attending the Christmas concert of the Vienna Boys Choir (undoubtedly one of the most famous choirs in the world) at the Carnegie Hall – the “home for a breathtaking variety of music.” The angelic choir’s 20-song repertoire was so splendid we were relentless in applauding. Manuel Huber, the conductor, acceded to three encores.
When I muse on the true spirit of Christmas, I am reminded of these poignant lines from G.K. Chesterton’s poem, “A Christmas Carol,” his homage to the Christ-child:
“O weary, weary were the world, But here is all right / O stern and cunning are the kings, But here the true hearts are / O weary, weary is the world, But here the world’s desire…” and “O Holy Night,” which when breathtakingly sung by the Vienna Boys Choir, resonated what I felt was a very powerful message of love and peace.