Every December has its own melody. Somewhere around the second week, you’ll hear it clearly: the laughter of children zigzagging across the streets, the thump of karaoke machines three houses down, and that one tito but of course belting “My Way” like he owns the stage.
And in those sounds, I hear my own childhood breathing.
I remember waking up early on December mornings, dragging my slippers along the cold tiles, helping Nanay wash grapes for our noche buena table even if they were too expensive and too tiny to justify buying but it never mattered. Christmas wasn’t about logic; it was about tradition.
Filipinos keep faith like an heirloom. We polish old customs until they shine brighter each year.
🎶 Caroling: The Choir of the Streets
Somewhere tonight, a group of kids is probably holding homemade tambourines made from flattened bottle caps. They will knock on gates, giggle behind the fences, and sing carols in voices unpolished but deeply sincere:
“Sa maybahay ang aming bati…”
Then you hear it, the loudest voice among them shouting “Thank you! Thank you! Ang babait ninyo!” after receiving five pesos each or, if they’re lucky, bibingka or puto bumbong.
These things are small to the world, but to us, they are events worth remembering. Because Christmas here isn’t simply celebrated, it is lived.
🍽 Noche Buena: A Miracle on a Dining Table
Families stretch budgets like dough in order to produce magic for noche buena. You know that table: a mountain of spaghetti glowing electric red, fruit salad floating in cream, hamonado glistening like hope itself.
And then there are faces: smiling, tired, happy, grateful.
Filipinos love by gathering. By cooking. By showing up.
That’s why even the busiest balikbayans fly home. Even the most exhausted call center agents stay up after shift to celebrate. Even those who lost something this year, jobs, money, love, people, still sit at the table, whispering prayers with bowed heads.
Because Christmas, to us, is not perfection; it is presence.
✨ A Letter to You, Dear Reader
Dear beautiful soul reading this blog,
If this year made you stumble, or cry, or break, remember this:
“Christmas doesn’t demand a perfect heart. It simply asks that it still beats.”
Wherever you are, Davao, Manila, Cebu, Canada, or somewhere between homes, you’re part of this story too. You carry the Philippines with you: in the way you smile at strangers, in your perseverance, in your faith that tomorrow will be kinder.
You are not alone.
“Christmas is not just a season; it is the echo of love that refuses to fade.”
❤️ A Letter From My Heart to Yours
To everyone reading this, I hope you gift yourself forgiveness.
You deserve joy not just in December, but every ordinary Tuesday after this.
May you find moments worth laughing about, even if they’re silly.
May you hug someone tightly, your mom, your partner, your friend and feel the universe pause.
May you receive surprises you never asked for but always needed: peace, clarity, rest.
And when Christmas Eve arrives, sit at your table, look around, breathe deeply, and whisper gratitude. Because even if life isn’t perfect, look at you, you’re still here.
🎄 Christmas Is Fast Approaching, and So Are New Dreams
Filipinos dream loudly. We plan, we hope, we rebuild, we try again.
And this December, let us welcome Christmas like a dear friend returning home.
So from my story to yours.
Maligayang Pasko.
May this season fill your home with music, your kitchen with warmth, and your soul with that kind of joy that stays even after the lights come down.
Christmas is approaching quickly, and it carries the promise of family, faith, food, laughter and a future that glows just a little brighter than yesterday.
As long as we keep loving, the season will never end.
This blog becomes another memory in the great Filipino Christmas diary, a story we will read again when we are older and wiser and still beautifully hopeful.
December is calling.
Let’s answer with love. 🎄✨
Comments
Post a Comment