this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on December 25, 2001.
“Just hear those sleigh bells ring-a-ling-ting-ting-ting-a-ling-tu…” That’s the first line of my favorite Christmas carol, which is among the many carols radio stations start playing as early as September. Then, right after Halloween (or even before it) some houses and establishments are already “dressed in holiday style.” Enter December, and everywhere you will see Santa Claus, Christmas trees and colorful lanterns that cheer up commuters stuck in traffic made heavier by Christmas sales in the malls and the crowds that just double in size during the season. Anywhere you look, people are rushing about, buying gifts, mailing letters and cards, shopping. But amid all the hustle and bustle, everyone is still “taking time to be kind to one and all, hu, hu, hu.”
Is it because “Santa Claus is coming to town”? For the kids and the young at heart, maybe. But for the others, perhaps it’s because “it’s that time of year when the world’s sincere and we’d like to find a way to show the things that words can’t say.”
Aside from all these, of course, we feast our ears on the melodies that define the season. Because like the chatter of birds that accompany daylight, these timeless compositions mark the beginning of our celebration while also lighting up the brighter side of our beings, telling us that the time of love and joy is here. People as fierce as leopards become as sweet as doves, enemies become friends, the grouch becomes a smiler.
I would dance, I would sing along or just smile because these songs brought a special kind of happiness to me. I wouldn’t let the holidays pass without turning on the radio.
That was nearly three years ago. Now, I just pretend not to see the component every time I’m in the living room. I don’t even dare to look at it. It hurts a little just to see it is turned on. And that is because if someone put it at its highest volume, my eardrums will be pierced and I will be aware of the pain without hearing the sound.
When we go to the mall, all I have to do is close my eyes and it’s not hard to imagine that I’m actually buried under the earth, with no one, nothing making sounds around me. All the music, laughter, gaiety and noise that are never absent from any crowded place are now stocked in some dark corner of my memory, which is already filled to bursting with everything I want to hear again.
Actually, this is my third silent Christmas. So I’m getting more and more used to all the things someone in my condition should do to keep from being depressed, like singing my favorite songs myself when I’m beginning to get tired of the quiet, referring to my prayer book so I can participate and respond correctly during the Holy Mass, focusing on the lips of anyone who is kind enough to talk to me so that I can understand what he is saying and counting my blessings instead of ruing my one disability.
It all started when I was 13. I had TB meningitis in the middle of my second year of high school. One day I regained consciousness at the hospital only to discover that I was living in an unusually silent world, which made me wonder if I was still among the living. After I saw my loved ones talking excitedly, apparently happy over something, without me hearing their voices when they were so near, I realized that not only was I alive but also much different from before.
For someone as inquisitive as me, for someone who loves music and who still has a lot of goals to reach, it’s a shame. I lose the sense of the beauty around me when I close my eyes. Worse, I have been forced to stop my schooling, which is more than a little sad because it makes me wonder whether I will still be able to go back to the high school days that passed me by. High school is the most colorful part of a student’s life, and I can attest to that.
I have found out that losing your ears is not very much easier than losing an arm and a leg. Sure, 80 percent of human knowledge is acquired through the eyes, but the remaining 10 that we perceive through our ears is still and will forever be essential, not to mention beautiful as well.
I could go on blaming myself for being such a bad girl, or my parents for not bringing me to the hospital at once, or the doctors themselves, but I know it was nobody’s fault. No one wanted this to happen to me. If this is my fate or the Lord’s will so that I might become a better human being, I’ll face it and accept it.
What’s the use of complaining? I’ll only feel depressed and make the people around me feel the same way. I’ve read that optimism is a healer and that optimists, aside from having more friends than those who always complain, also live longer and happier lives. Besides, it is not the right time to write about problems when we are in the season of hope.
Though hearing aids can’t help me and I can’t understand what the characters in my favorite shows say, there’s still a lot for me to be grateful for aside from the fact that I got out of the hospital without losing my sight or my sanity. There’s my whole family, my relatives, my friends and a lot more. And there is a Special Someone up in heaven who loves me and cares for me no matter what. The thought that my past shortcomings have already been forgiven and forgotten by Him is really comforting!
On Christmas Eve, as we gather around our simple noche buena after going to Mass, the belen catches my eye. In the stillness of my evening, I suddenly hear a child-like voice whispering in my ear: “I love you, my child, and you’re the very reason why I came.” As I touch my hand to the Baby Jesus in wonder, I think I can feel His heartbeat as He lies on the humble manger. His words and the feel of His heart beating with love for you and me more than make up for my inability to hear the sounds of Christmas. And I wouldn’t have noticed them if I were listening to the radio like before.
Now as I remember that the Savior was born one “silent night,” I think I can go on spending silent Christmases for as long as our home is filled with love and happiness and I can “hear’ the Celebrator whispering to my soul. They are the ones that make my Christmas complete after all!
Indeed, my silent Christmas isn’t entirely without sound because I hear a beautiful song coming from my heart. It is the music composed by my faith in His love.
“Do you hear what I hear?” If you do, then “let’s sing Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday! This season, may we never forget the love we had from Jesus…”
