Perfect Love from a Perfect Stranger

What better day to resume writing in this long-neglected but still beloved blog but on the day of hearts?

Today I remember a gesture of love I witnessed when I was seven-turning-eight years old (Sophie's age, I realize) and during the great San Francisco earthquake of 1989. My family and I were on our way home to Manila after having lived in the United States for 7 years. From New York, we were to stop over at San Francisco and stay with my dad's brother, Tito Manny, for a few days, before taking our final connecting flight to a home I had often heard about but had never really known, for I was a mere one year old when we had left it.

On our last day in San Francisco, my Tito Manny took us to a nearby mall to shop for what I would eventually understand as pasalubong - gifts to family and friends from one's trip abroad. After buying us a few gifts as well as his own pasalubong for our relatives in the Philippines, my Tito Manny went his own way, as did my mom, so that she could accomplish more without her brood slowing her down. The brood - me, my older brother Ramon, and my younger brother Regis (one year old at the time) - was left with my father, who humored us and took us into stores that captured our fancy.

As we were walking through the hallway of the mall, I suddenly heard a frightening, deafening, pounding sound. It then felt as if the building had been ripped from its very foundation and was literally jumping up and down. The noise grew louder and louder, the pounding stronger, and as I squeezed my eyes shut, I imagined stone slamming against stone. The sound quickly grew unbearable. Ramon screamed, and I whimpered into my father's trench coat. We both panicked and shouted at my dad to make it stop. He rushed us into a shoe store, with a table we could hide under in case the ceiling collapsed. We clung to him tightly.

Ramon then started screaming, "The baby, the baby!" I tore my face away from my father’s jacket and realized in horror that in our panic and in my father's desire to pacify and protect us, we had forgotten about my younger brother Regis. He remained in his stroller in the hallway. For a few unbearable, impossibly slow seconds, I watched as his stroller rolled back and forth like a pendulum as the building swayed. My father then barked at us to stay put and take care of one another. He was about to run to Regis when all of a sudden, a man with smooth ebony skin stopped the stroller and wrapped his body around it. By this time, the earthquake surged, and we watched in shock and relief and gratitude as this man, this stranger held on to my brother with all his might. In those moments, he was a pillar, a stronghold, a safe haven for my baby brother. How strong, how steadfast, how firm, how still he looked! Should the ceiling collapse, he would undoubtedly perish, but Regis would be safe. We did not know him and yet he willingly offered his life for the safety of my brother.

The tremors eventually subsided. My mom, who had run from where she was when the earthquake had started, had witnessed everything. She ran to the stroller, swooped up Regis into her arms, and managed a shaky thanks to the stranger, who slowly walked away.

I never got a glimpse of his face, but I have never forgotten what he did, nor the courage and love he had shown my brother. 

And so today, on this day of love, I celebrate that kind of love – whether this be the love between husband and wife, mother and child, the best of friends, or even between two complete strangers – love that comes from the deepest, truest, very best part of ourselves – love that is generous and courageous, love that is ultimately live giving - and life saving.

And to you stranger, I send you my own prayers of gratitude and love for what you did for my brother. I do not know where in this world you are, what your lot in life has been, or whether you’ve saved more lives after that, but I pray that you never forget that at that crucial, frightening moment some twenty four years ago, you were ever so truly, ever so gloriously, a hero.

Happy Valentine’s to you, and Happy Valentine’s Day, world :-)