A Beggar in NAIA

A few minutes after 4 o’clock in the morning, I was standing in one of the corners of terminal 3, NAIA. I did have checked already my roller bag in in the counter of Cebu Pacific Airline. Now, I supposed to be going to a station for paying my terminal fee but I did not or “could not” to be more accurate. I realized I no longer had enough money to pay for it. I had paid much for my excess baggage.


So my standing there in the corner was a “do or die” thing. It wasn’t all for savouring the excitement and joy being the first time in an airport nor was I looking for some hot chicks. In fact, it was all the total reverse. I was sweating in that big air-conditioned building and was eyeing for an old compassionate-looking woman to seek for help. I waited there. I waited for almost an hour. Alas! I saw one with a teenage girl (probably her daughter) going toward the terminal fee station. I had the second thought at first to approach them. But I finally did. I wore the best smile I had as I was going near them then greeted them with the good manner I was taught in my family. Quickly, I confided to the old woman my problem but she just simply rejected me and went on. I looked at them with embarrassment on my face then headed back to the corner, head bow and with heavy heart. Again, I waited.
It was just the first heart-aching rejection I encountered. There was another with a lone woman with her late forty who just simply ignored me while hurrying toward the terminal fee station. I almost dropped my tears in shame but I determined myself not to.
Back in the corner, I was thinking deeply with the instances I was rejected. Perhaps, I looked unbelievable and was mere kidding them since I was smiling talking to them. Maybe I better present myself otherwise, serious and pitiful so they would believe in me. I began to pity myself and lose my hope. It was already more or less 30 minutes before my scheduled flight. I began to panic. My fear of rejection grew intensely. I had the temptation of not begging anymore but I persisted over it.
I walked around inside the building observing my fellow passengers I came across and those in the corners until I saw a nun at a distance. I hurried towards her and cried, “Sister!”, as she was about to enter into the other terminal fee station. She turned and saw me heading towards her. I directly introduced myself without timidity and confessed to her what troubled me and my urgent need. She then asked for my ID. I presented to her my school ID card. She examined it, looked at me, and back to my ID card. I wished to banish quickly while she was doing that. I sensed another kind of rejection. But she took out her wallet and reached out to me a two hundred bill, the exact money I was asking for. I never knew exactly how to thank her then. Because of much joy, I asked for her name and number so I could extend more of my gratitude to her in the future through texts or another meeting. But she refused and chose to be an unnamed person to me, though I insisted.
I intently looked at her hoping that I could remember her in the course of time. But her face simply faded gradually in my memory and the only thing which remained was my conviction that she is sent by God, someone to save me from my misery.
Though I never thought of a bible passage at that time—one thing for sure I know—I now better understand the salvific act of Jesus—“to give his life in ransom for many” (Mark: 10:45).