And The Child Shall Lead Them

   Eight-year-old Rona Mahilum was the fast asleep. Alamp made from a small jar with a wick of tightly twisted paper, sat on the table beside her bed. Their cat reached out for the shadows cast by the oil lamps flickering orange flame. Nearby, five of her brothers and sisters were sleeping on woven mats on the floor.
       They were alone in the vast night, high up in a mountain in Negros Oriental. Their parents, Rolando and Nenita, had set off earlier that day with two other children to sell bread and coffee at a fiesta in Alimatok, a village over an hour away on foot.
        Suddenly the cat jumped, knocking the lamp over and spilling the blazing oil onto Rona’s bed and on the floor. Rona jumped up. Hearing something sizzling, she realized her shoulder-length hair was on fire. Then the flames leapt to her night clothes. She flailed at the flames searing her head and shoulders. It was but a step to the door, but in the terrifying light, she saw her brothers and sisters stirring.

With her hair burning and her nostrils filled with smoke, Rona grabbed the first child she could, five-year-old Cheryl. Rushing down the ladder steps into the yard, she laid the child under a big banana tree. Squinting and holding her breath, she ran back through the smoke and lifted both Ruben, four, and Rochelle, one, to safety. Entering the burning house again, she carried Roberto, seven outside. Dazed and coughing, he watched his sister as she ran back to the house for nine –year-old Roda. Finding her heavier than the others, Rona frantically pushed her older sister to the window and rolled her out. Having rescued all the children, she grabbed a plastic pail, ran to a nearby stream and returned to the house to douse the flames again and again. Finally, she collapsed face down on the smoking rubble.

      Negotiating the long dark path home and lighting her way with a small oil lamp, Rona’s mother, Nenita, had thoughts only of her children. She had left Alimatok around midnight after smelled something burning. Moving more quickly, nearly running, she came into the clearing and saw her house. It had burned to the ground. Beneath the banana trees lay her children, all but one. Yelling for Rona, she clambered over the collapse doorway. Holding up her lamp, she looked at the devastation. There was no sign of Rona. Digging through the rubble, she caught sight of a black round hunp which looked like a pile of charcoal. Praying it was not her daughter, she crouched down. It was Rona curled up into a ball, face down. Weeping, she carried her daughter and laid her on a large green banana leaf. She told her children that Rona was dead. Holding Rona’s limp hand and begging God to give life to her child, lay down beside her.

      Rona’s father, Rolando, returning home towards morning, accepted his daughter’s death and offered to dig a grave near their house.

       But Nenita could not accept that God would allow her child to die. She decided to take Rona to the mountain village of Bato, some six hours away on foot, where there was a small hospital. She thought she would go as soon as the sun was up.

        In the morning, Nenita washed the soot from the girl’s face, which had somehow been spared by the flames. She positioned her daughter upside down, her mother’s upper legs. The child’s feet were hooked over her mother’s shoulders, allowing Nenita to grasp them as she walked. Trudging along the hills and valleys, she reached Alimatok by midmorning. She located her daughter Cristina, who had spent the night with a friend. Together they walked to the next village. A heavy rain broke out in midafternoon and they had to stop until the storm was over. Sliding Rona off her back, she saw the child’s eyes were open and looking at her. Now that Rona had regained consciousness, Nenita was more determined to save her child.

Positioning the child on her back again, she set trough the rain and mud with even greater purpose.

         Examining Rona, the doctor found that she had third –degree burns over her scalp and back. Her left ear was virtually gone. She had to be admitted in the hospital or she would die. Nenita explained that they had no money and asked that Rona simply be given first aid. But under no circumstances would the doctor agree that Rona go without treatment. She assured Nenita that the bill would not be burdersome.

          The doctor was impressed by how cheerful Rona was in spite of her terrible pain. After four days, she insisted that the child be transferred to a more modern hospital in Bacolod. The burn treatments were agonizing and the horrible scars had shortened her shoulder and neck muscles pulling her head into a hunched position.

          A local newspaper and radio station carried stories of how a courageous little girl was burned saving her brothers and sisters. Funds were raised to pay her hospital bills. In June, Nenita and Rona left for home with some simple medicines.

Values: Pure love mocks all.        
Moral Lesson: The value imply in this story is love of family. Whatever difficulties she may encounter, but then never leaves someone in times of danger. The reward for doing well is life. Parents must teach their children the value of love and unity.