Moonlit vigil

As a child I discovered a garden
Where I could hide myself
Whenever I'm absent from life.
As a child I hid a sun
So my way could have light
And my silence a friend.
- Mario Frangoulis, TON EAFTO TOU PAIDI
- (translated from Greek)

On March 3, the Youth Ministry (where I'm a member) of the local chapter of the Oasis of Love went to the Pelaez Sports Center for the World Youth Day Cross Visit. The WYD cross that is on its way to Sydney for the 2008 World Youth Day was here in our city for two days. Young men and women from and around the city were called to have a vigil. We were supposed to stay there overnight, but since I was feeling weak due to my recent bout with colds and fever, I had to leave the vigil at around twelve midnight. I wish I completed that vigil. I really do.

There were parts of the program that called for all the lights to be turned off and for us to be silent. In those moments, I remember my stargazing nights with my childhood barkada (my neighbors). When I was a child, we can only get two channels. And when there's nothing good to see on TV, the barkada would all go outside into the barren streets (dirt path, really). We had this neighbor who had Bermuda grasses (or is it just grass) in front of their house and we would all go there and sit down and talk. We talked about anything. Talked about the day before. Talked about what happened earlier on the day. Talked about our future, our hopes, our dreams. After a while we'd get tired of talking and we'd just stay there and be under the moon and the stars. In silence. Some of us would lie on our backs (which on hindsight might not have been hygienic, but then again we're just kids) and some would just sit and stare blankly at the empty lot on the other side of the road.

In that WYD Cross Vigil, in that brief moment when the lights were turned off, and there was nothing but the moon that lighted the surrounding, when everyone was called to be silent, I remember my childhood friends and our little moonlit vigils as young kids with nothing important to do. I miss them. I miss those times.

He and himself as a child...
They'll stand together
And see passing by like rivers
Moments that never grow old,
And the faces
That have turned themselves into streets and centuries,
And the dreams
That have dug through the years' hideouts.
- Mario Frangoulis, TON EAFTO TOU PAIDI
- (translated from Greek)