JEEPNEYS, CHILDREN AND WAR

He nearly side-swiped us as he cut us off on the wide, unusually empty highway. “That was senseless and dangerous!” I thought as I mentally told him off. I think I probably even mumbled, “Joker,” out loud.

It shouldn’t have surprised me because I’ve known for years you cannot relax in Manila traffic—not even for a moment. I’m sure I didn’t look so pleasant as I glared at him, seeking his eyes so I could see him recognize my anger.

I didn’t catch his eye, though, because he was focusing all of his attention on our two-year-old son Joshua. Josh’s bright yellow hair and engaging blue eyes had captured the jeepney driver’s heart.

Instantly, I forgave his violation of my right of way. As he waved and smiled at my son I was even ready to admit that I had probably encroached on someone’s right of way at sometime.

Josh waved to him and we lost sight of each other in the increasing traffic.

I looked to my left and in another jeepney was a young Filipino family. The mother was holding the tiniest, prettiest little girl. Her black hair and dark brown eyes captured me. She had a power over me that brought instant love.

Power, that’s it. There is power in these little lives. Maybe it’s in their eyes. Perhaps it’s the unguarded innocence that isn’t trying to challenge my culture or measure my successes. Those powerful little eyes were looking for one thing—a smile. And when they found it their personalities burst open in friendliness.

Indeed, it is a strange and wonderful force that little ones have. Some of the grandest legends and folklore tell of the pauper’s waif turning the heart of a king, or melting a tyrant’s frozen will.

Fables and fairy tales have used the emotional voltage of children to create their beautiful lessons and fantasies.

And let’s not forget that wise men sought to find One Special Child. It fit the Heavenly Father’s plan to have His Son arrive as a child.

“A little child shall lead them…” took on a new ring for me today. Its ring resonates in my heart.

Tonight I read the usual crop of international news magazines. The tiny, beautiful faces I had noticed all day were not far from my mind as I read articles about another week of saber-rattling and war talk around the world. Just like the drivers in a traffic jam, each one feels his rights have been violated.

With a sudden dazzle of bright yellow hair Josh burst into the room to tell me, “Nite-nite, DaDa.” Of course I stopped and hugged that little kid. What an exciting child!

Then seven year old Susan came in to say goodnight. Warm feelings of love and hope swelled in my heart as I held her. The war threats were swept out of my attention as I went to get her some bedtime books.

Later as I reviewed the day’s events my thoughts became a swirl of jeepneys, children’s eyes, and war rumblings.

And then I thought, “Would there still be wars if we hugged one another’s children?”