Some gave thanks. Some asked. Men. Women. Young. Old. And children. Innocent children not knowing what was going on. Some a month old.
We were all there. Praying, each a different one. Except the children. Yeah. Except the children who were running. Or crying.
Men. Women. Men who dressed like women. Women acting like men.
Some smelling like heaven. Others like fish rot. Some sweating. Others acting cooler than the electric fans. Some danced. I don't know why. Others stiffled a cry. Others obviously happy. I saw a woman who was laughing and talking to herself. I was hoping some angel whispered something to her. Some touching the glass-framed photos of unknown saints and made the cross. Some actually kissed the frames.
Others pushed other people oblivious to the ongoing mass. Others come and go like the mass they were seeing was a bad movie. There was even a couple smooching in the small plaza inside the basilica.
All came to this place asking solace, comfort, peace, thanks or just be seen.
I came here in gratitude.
I was at the Basilica of Sto Niño in downtown Cebu this morning to give thanks to the Almighty for the rare opportunity of experiencing 30 days of fasting and surviving the process with a different outlook in life.
Despite the ambivalence, these people made life colorful. Life is beautiful.
And the cantor sang: A---MEN. A---Men. A---men.