CEBU, Philippines - The old woman selling cigarettes and candies at a spot along the city’s Legazpi Street is quite a sight to behold. And she is really heart-warming to know up-close. She always smiles when she talks, like she had good reason to smile about.
She has the face of someone who can’t be easily tripped by little discomforts. For sure, the traffic jam, lousy internet connection, a stain on her dress she had not previously detected, or the hot days of summer do not worry her as much as they do people of better means. She looks so contended and secure with her small box of merchandise by her side.
Eliberta Magarito is 72 years old. She is not too old to make her own living. She plies her trade from ten a.m. to five p.m., every single day. And walks several kilometres from and back to home, too.
She tucks her greying hair in with a scarf she uses as headband. But that’s the longest her sense of self goes. She doesn’t mind getting all the dust and fumes from the passing vehicles, nor does it matter if the customers are being polite or rude to her.
Where’s her family? Or does she have one? Does she have children?
She has a family – a daughter and two grandchildren, all grown up. They are all able-bodied enough to do some income-generating work, herself included. Her daughter works as “tindera†at a bakery; the two boys work as janitors in a mall.
It is not clear whether the family really lets the old woman work or if she’s the one who insists to work. She has been working all her life – as a house help, as ambulant vendor, as anything – and maybe she finds it hard to turn away from such routine. She brings a cupful of cooked rice to work every day, and drinking water in a recycled plastic bottle. Come mealtime at noon, she walks a good distance to find cheap vegetable soup at some streetside carinderia.
Now and then, a passerby would notice this tiny figure by her cigarette box. They would talk; oh, she always welcomes a conversation, perhaps to remind herself that she is actually still around. The conversation is always pleasant, always positive.
The strangers often come back with a plastic bag of used clothes for her, sometimes with a pack of food. These she accepts graciously, gratefully. Never does she pretend that she is not in need of other people’s pity.
The old woman doesn’t have any misgivings in life. Even if life has always been difficult for her. Even if her story sounds like she has never had experienced an easy time, even just for a wink. Even if life has been one bad fortune after another for her.
This human being is not complaining a bit. Her heart brims with acceptance for what had been and what may come. And her face always wears a smile – a smile of a suffering saint.