Being a godfather
Today is Black Saturday because Jesus Christ historically died and is buried somewhere under the responsibility of a wealthy man from Jerusalem who claimed His body and laid it to rest at a tomb covered with stone. But celebrations of Easter is pretty obvious in this city that never sleeps.
I was asked to be a godfather of my officemate Suzanna's two kids. It's an honor to be one. I have had my first inaanak also here in Hong Kong (Roy's son Raphael) as well as a couple of little boys in Davao. I had a few baptismal godfathers (ninong Rudy, ninong Tony) and a godmother (ninang Nida) whom I used to exchange letters while she was working in Malaysia and eventually met her on my 2002 vacation in Davao. My godfather Rudy is someone I looked forward to meet last Christmas but I learned he was out of town. He used to be a barber and I had my discounted haircuts during college. I heard a bad news about ninong Tony that I could only remember him in one of photos taken when I was about three. I have a confirmation godfather too. As with Filipino custom defining the role of godfather as a guide to spiritual growth is lesser known than being someone who will give gifts on Christmas. There is a widespread tale that godfathers try to evade their godsons who seek Christmas pleasures in the form of toys, food treats or even cash with the prodding of their proud parents.
On the eve of Easter Sunday there is a Mass which also include the baptism of new members of the Catholic community. In my high school days I often see older people baptized probably renewing their faith or as a convert from another faith. Children normally get baptized within six months of birth in the Philippines.
When Suzanna invited me, she said it was based on certain "qualifications" that I exemplified in the office. Apart from her and me, I only know two others who are probably not attending the Mass every Sunday. Suzanna, a Malaysian Chinese, also confessed the same and felt guilty about it.
The church where I attended was in Saint Anthony's in Pokfulam Road, just across the Hong Kong University. The Mass will be in Cantonese so both Suzanna and her husband David are worried I would get bored. But with the well-prepared church staff such as the ten or so altar guides, a wonderful chorale group as well as ushers and usherettes I got amazed. The masterful playing of violin reminded me of someone. In a typical Mass in Hong Kong served by Filipino communities the number is less than half. In short this is something I would love to see in a Hong Kong (Chinese) Catholic community.
I guess there were about fifty children and adults including David and the kids Eugene (2 1/2 yrs old) and Ernest (13 months). While the Mass was on going I could only try recalling what was the corresponding English portion of one part. I also found myself trying to read Chinese characters (I think I can read 21 characters, Simplified or Traditional Chinese). I wish I know how to speak or at least catch up with some words because I also wanted to laugh by the time the crowd responds to what the priest shares.
I thought the baptism process was done smoothly despite an ocassional onslaught of photographers wanting to click on their favorite subjects. I have to be cautious of what to do especially when I carried Eugene on the altar because the altar boys and the priest gestured to me in Cantonese and I have no way of arguing or asking them what to do to ensure Eugene's head is properly tilted so as not to soak his face with the Holy Water.
I feel a little sens of being a father as I carried Ernest on our way out of the church. It is in the feeling that I always stare on the child and make sure that he is safe walking in the aisle, not hurting the other kids on his side nor burn the candle droppings catch when he mishandles it. I did not mind if someone told me "m sai" (implying that I need not go in front as the child can manage on his own despite my belief of otherwise).
The rites ended with a good walk with the children, their nanny/photographer as well as their proud and grateful parents, on my way to the bus stop. As I boarded the bus on my way home a lot of things ran around my mind. It was a quite trip home, passing through Cyberport, Wah Fu, Chi Fu, Wah Kwai and Aberdeen. I also expect to be a quiet home as my housemates are still on vacation. I love the feeling. Thank God for this day I became steward of two more children.
I was asked to be a godfather of my officemate Suzanna's two kids. It's an honor to be one. I have had my first inaanak also here in Hong Kong (Roy's son Raphael) as well as a couple of little boys in Davao. I had a few baptismal godfathers (ninong Rudy, ninong Tony) and a godmother (ninang Nida) whom I used to exchange letters while she was working in Malaysia and eventually met her on my 2002 vacation in Davao. My godfather Rudy is someone I looked forward to meet last Christmas but I learned he was out of town. He used to be a barber and I had my discounted haircuts during college. I heard a bad news about ninong Tony that I could only remember him in one of photos taken when I was about three. I have a confirmation godfather too. As with Filipino custom defining the role of godfather as a guide to spiritual growth is lesser known than being someone who will give gifts on Christmas. There is a widespread tale that godfathers try to evade their godsons who seek Christmas pleasures in the form of toys, food treats or even cash with the prodding of their proud parents.
On the eve of Easter Sunday there is a Mass which also include the baptism of new members of the Catholic community. In my high school days I often see older people baptized probably renewing their faith or as a convert from another faith. Children normally get baptized within six months of birth in the Philippines.
When Suzanna invited me, she said it was based on certain "qualifications" that I exemplified in the office. Apart from her and me, I only know two others who are probably not attending the Mass every Sunday. Suzanna, a Malaysian Chinese, also confessed the same and felt guilty about it.
The church where I attended was in Saint Anthony's in Pokfulam Road, just across the Hong Kong University. The Mass will be in Cantonese so both Suzanna and her husband David are worried I would get bored. But with the well-prepared church staff such as the ten or so altar guides, a wonderful chorale group as well as ushers and usherettes I got amazed. The masterful playing of violin reminded me of someone. In a typical Mass in Hong Kong served by Filipino communities the number is less than half. In short this is something I would love to see in a Hong Kong (Chinese) Catholic community.
I guess there were about fifty children and adults including David and the kids Eugene (2 1/2 yrs old) and Ernest (13 months). While the Mass was on going I could only try recalling what was the corresponding English portion of one part. I also found myself trying to read Chinese characters (I think I can read 21 characters, Simplified or Traditional Chinese). I wish I know how to speak or at least catch up with some words because I also wanted to laugh by the time the crowd responds to what the priest shares.
I thought the baptism process was done smoothly despite an ocassional onslaught of photographers wanting to click on their favorite subjects. I have to be cautious of what to do especially when I carried Eugene on the altar because the altar boys and the priest gestured to me in Cantonese and I have no way of arguing or asking them what to do to ensure Eugene's head is properly tilted so as not to soak his face with the Holy Water.
I feel a little sens of being a father as I carried Ernest on our way out of the church. It is in the feeling that I always stare on the child and make sure that he is safe walking in the aisle, not hurting the other kids on his side nor burn the candle droppings catch when he mishandles it. I did not mind if someone told me "m sai" (implying that I need not go in front as the child can manage on his own despite my belief of otherwise).
The rites ended with a good walk with the children, their nanny/photographer as well as their proud and grateful parents, on my way to the bus stop. As I boarded the bus on my way home a lot of things ran around my mind. It was a quite trip home, passing through Cyberport, Wah Fu, Chi Fu, Wah Kwai and Aberdeen. I also expect to be a quiet home as my housemates are still on vacation. I love the feeling. Thank God for this day I became steward of two more children.
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3:41 AM
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