Filipina: A Woman of Character

I always see her standing in the middle of her garden with a long broomstick clasped in her feeble and bony hands, sometimes alone, most of the times gleefully surrounded by her apos. She was always clad with an ankle length skirt and a blouse that is less elaborate than the traditional baro. Her hair was pulled tightly in a bun and her face was wrinkled with the years that passed her by. In spite of her old age, her back was as straight as a board and her mere glance could silence the rowdy teenagers that pass by. Although, the one thing that really struck me about her was her warm and gentle smile and her presence that commands nothing less than respect and reverence. I knew her as Manang, the old lady who lives in front of my parents’ house.

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