A CHRISTMAS STORY
Gale force blast pummeled the tiny Filipino island of Leyte, that
portentous, Christmas Eve, twisting tall coconut trees as though they were
matchsticks, uprooting smaller trees, demolishing houses, ravaging the land.
Rain poured down in torrents. The blustery wind whipped the surging sea into
fantastic billows that threatened to take Leyte and everything on it out to
sea. No stars graced Leyte’s blackened sky that fateful Yuletide eve.
A mother waiting that night before Christmas, to welcome her newly born child
into the world, wondered what would become of all of them, as the wind battered
the tiny thatched roof house where she lay. Her house built on stilts quivered
and shivered with each new gust of wind; trembled, and shuddered with each
fresh assault from the sea. The rising sea flooded the floor of their house,
forcing her to move her mat on the floor to a table, and still the water rose
higher. Earnest prayers went up that night, pleading that God would spare
their lives. There was not very much that humans could do.
The blackness of midnight gave way to dawn. The winds abated, the sea returned
to its place. Sometime during that night a little baby was born—a girl.
Despite the destruction that wasted that midnight there was new life and their
lives had been spared.