The Bread: “Served with Goodness and Lessons to Remember”

January 6, 2022

Thursday

As I was lying down in my bed, hearing the sound of silence and the stillness of the night, recognizing that yesterday was a tiring day, but I guess being tired all day almost every day is normal for me. Then, I contemplated the day I had yesterday, and a sudden old memory came up.

In the morning we had coffee and pandesal, a famous typical Pinoy bread, favorite of almost all Filipinos. I partnered it with peanut butter and it tastes really good.

That was sometimes my typical Filipino breakfast, just bread and coffee will do. Then because of that bread, I suddenly remember my old memories related to bread.

Oh, just love to divulge some of my memories with you. Hope you’ll read it till the end. 💚

I was still a kid, probably 8-9 years old, my father and I always have our morning walk every 5 am. Yes, he always wakes me up before 5 am, and both of us will walk our path to the market until we reached our favorite bakeshop. It was summer vacation, we had no classes so we had a lot of free time.

The bakeshop and I got the same nickname, so I guess, I will forever remember it.

As we strolled and took our way to the bakeshop we were just busy talking about school and smiling at the familiar faces we encountered. The public market from our house is just a quick walking distance so we were always attending to this routine.

As we reached our destination we will buy pandesal, and my father always requests hot pandesal, and then he will ask me what I want.

And I remember it so clearly, there was a bread I called “Mushroom cake”, but it was a bit expensive. It's a muffin or a cupcake liked bread topped with a bubbly meringue and glazed with caramelized sugar. It looks exactly like a mushroom so I called it mushroom cake.

Because my father told me that I am his favorite, but I know he just had no choice, 😅 he always buys one for me.

Then I was so happy and satisfied with my bread every morning.

But when the summer vacation was over, our walking routine also ended. My father was assigned from another town, and it's too far, he always left home by 5 am, and we were left at home with the breakfast ready and with our allowances for school.

That's how I remember my school days every morning. The bread, we didn't have time to buy it daily.

But my father tried his best to keep our bond. Every Sunday, instead of walking, after we attend the Sunday mass, we always passed by our favorite bakeshop.

But as days passed, because he was busy at work and I was busy with my homework from school, slowly by slowly we didn't realize that we eventually stopped doing the routine we used to do.

But, if my father had a chance he still bought pandesal for us, while my mushroom cake permanently became not available.

Then, I noticed there will always be 3 pieces of pandesal bread left in the plastic. My father hung it near the window or the door, or in a place where we couldn't reach it, out of curiosity, I just glued my eyes to him and the bread.

Then, I saw my father stand up and get the plastic hung in the window, he furthermore walked outside the house and went near the gate. I was left on our sofa, wondering what and where did my father leave the bread he just grabbed.

I noticed it even more because he repeatedly does it. Every time we had pandesal, he never missed keeping 3 pieces of it.

Then one day, I followed him with my sight, by the time he went outside the house and stood near the gate, I saw a woman from afar getting nearer to him.

She was dressed in ragged clothes, her hair was so frizzy and stiff, she was so messy, and seems she's a beggar the way she looks. She had with her a ragged doll and plastics that served as her bag.

I saw my father handing the plastic to the woman and then after that, he will go back inside the house.

“Who was that papa?”, out of my curious mind, I asked him straightforwardly.

“Oh, that woman is Nanet. He answered while smiling.

..She was ill and gone mad, it's believed her husband left her that's why she got into that kind of situation. She was your Tita's (referring to her eldest sister) high school classmate too. She looks so pitiful, so I give her some bread.” he added.

I was captivated by my father, he's not so kind if you look at him but deep inside, he truly is. He's known as so “kuripot” or very very prudent when it comes to money. He seldom lets others borrow or get a loan from him. That's why most of his acquaintances call him “Sir Kuripot”.

But I felt really sad about the woman in the street. I wonder why her family let her roam around in that situation, knowing they're just living on the barangay nearby. But then, it's their story.

For almost how many months, my father kept doing giving Nanet some bread until one day, the woman didn't show up.

We just heard the awful news that she passed away.

Somehow because of that ordinary bread, my father helped an unfortunate street woman withstand her hunger for months.

Then I just realized I am so lucky I could eat those bread whenever I like, wear neat clothes, have a family who looks after me, have a roof to rest and live on.

There is so much in this world that I am thankful for. Though my life is not perfect, still I have a life that is worth living for.

Who would ever think that the simple breakfast I had this morning revived this old memory in my head, and I am now sharing this with you?

Maybe it's for us to be reminded that a single piece of bread could help someone survive starvation, it could help someone to live. And we must be grateful and appreciative for all the things that we are currently enjoying because not everyone has the same situation as we have.

I am gratified that I still have those lessons from that certain remembering, a lesson that I will forever treasure and would never get tired of applying in my life today.

Because of that memory, I won't look at the pandesal the same way as a common food we eat.

It's bread, simple food for some, and a blessing for others.

Date published: January 6, 2022

Written by: @eommaZel ✍🏻🥀