Christmas, like the filled mixed bags touted by both Cordillerans and lowlanders whenever they are out a-marketing for this season, indeed, holds an infinite variety of appearances.
Each successive Christmas turn of the passage of years reveals new phases of beauty, startling even to the hardened Cordilleran or lowlander “dedma” amongst us who shrug off Christmas, now with their fresh exhibition to blurt unconsciously, “Ni dandani met gayam nga Christmas. Saan ko pay nasipsiputan panaglabas ti bulan. Nagpaspas met ti aldaw aya!”
And all to suddenly, the unheeded wild sunflower plants that have long blanketed the impassive mountains and hills of Cordillera hinterlands and are now bursting with gently, waving yellow flowers and are now somehow glanced with mild, if not, cute interest by passersby.
Even the poinsettia, long pointed to by many highlanders, Ilocanos and other compatriots from other regions as the Christmas flower, seem to appear from every corner. Not to be outdone are the plants Red roses, Amaryllis, Azalea and Cymbidium being purchased by locals as addendum to their Christmas tree decoration.
If for months, the grim-faced Cordillera hills and mountains stood somber, these now seem to crack a smile, be it a stony smile.
Daily Laborer, who long suspected that flowers are merely instruments used by men to appease the ruffled feathers of irate women, wondered why the poinsettia is always linked to Christmas and got a schooling last Monday from Darius Daliban, long an agricultural graduate from Benguet State University (BSU) and now engaged in the lucrative cut-flower industry in Benguet.
At his farm in La Trinidad, Benguet, Daliban explained to Daily Laborer that as legend holds it, the shape of the poinsettia flower and their leaves resemble the Star of Bethlehem that led the three wise men to the Baby in A Manger swaddled only in rags.
But here is another touching legend why poinsettia became linked to Christmas and encapsulates Jesus life story in plant growing alongside a path.
A touching legend so ancient has it that long time ago, in a dusty village south of Mexico, there lived a girl named Pepita. As Pepita, in bare feet, one day, walked to their church, she realized, she had no present to offer to baby Jesus at their Christmas Eve service.
As she plodded on glumly towards their church, she looked at the weeds growing alongside the path. At the urging of someone she could not see but felt, she stopped, gathered a handful of the weeds and proceeded to church.
Pepita, who had no money to buy for a better gift, was upset that all she could give to the Baby in A Manger was a handful of weeds, but remembered her cousin’s words, “Even the most humble gift, given in love, is acceptable in His Eyes.”
Before their church altar where a replica of Baby in A Manger was carefully laid out, Pepita reverently laid her handful of weeds at the feet of the Christ, Child.
And before the feet of the Baby in A Manger, the weeds transformed and burst into bright, red flowers.
As that legend has it, from that night on after Pepita gave her gift to a Lowly Baby watched by lambs, other animals, shepherds and the stars, the weeds that burst into flowers became known in Mexico as “Flores de Noche Buena,” as we know it now, too. Or, simply “Flowers of the Night.”
Closer to home in the Cordillera frontiers, the flowers of the wild sunflowers (marapait) have stories related to Christmas, too. And many of these stories are true.
In many instances, before, Daily Laborer have entered churches situated in Benguet where a Manger with a depiction of Baby have been constructed before the altars and decorated with life-like images of reindeers with antlers, or lambs made from trunks and twigs of Benguet pines.
Around these constructed mangers were placed flowers. But what was noticeable was, among the flowers, were also sabong ti marapait, beaming sun-like amidst the myriad of flowers placed there by those who constructed the mangers.
During Daily Laborer’s childhood when the now-called Anglican Cathedral of the Resurrection, in Magsaysay Road, Baguio City, was still called Church of the Resurrection, Daily Laborer, doing chores as sacristan often helped in construction of the Manger of the Baby placed in front of the church altar.
That was the time of the late Fr. Alejandro Rulite as rector of the Church of the Resurrection. Rulite, during his time made it a focal point that every December, the Manger of the Baby should already be in place before the front of the altar for appreciation and reflection by the congregation.
Daily Laborer, along with other sacristans, would often gather half-blooming sabong ti marapait, gave these to the women church members responsible in fixing the flower decorations along the manger who would then fix them in intricate ways to make the manger and stable as natural as it could look.
And Daily Laborer remembered those times when Fr. Rulite, inspecting the finished Manger and all its amenities including the wild sunflowers, would nod his head in satisfaction.
And the sacristan members, seeing Fr. Rulite beam with delight at the finished manger works with sabong ti marapait beaming back at Fr. Rulite, would thrust their elbows at each other and say, “Na pipya pay diay sabong ti marapait ta adda usar na, datayo ngay, ket awan!”
Never mind whether historical portrait of a Christmas is already fading before it was even really framed, but the fact remains a tree (whether man-made or real), sudsy decoration, a star and flowers will always enwreathe with garments of loveliness, any Christmas time.
Better watch out! When your Christmas tree is the real one, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR-CAR) or the Local Government Units (LGUs) might be knocking at your door and peppering you with questions.
When Christmas comes creeping around the corner, clouds hang their rich drapery around its head, and fog like incense that linger early mornings along the winding Halsema National Highway rises from every hill and mountain to the Baby born to suffer for the ills of mankind.
Any troubled wave, any dark cavern, any dreary land, any storm that rifts along other regions, Cordillera and Region 01, are but the deeper chords that fill the measure of the glorious return of every Christmas.
Of all the festivals in regions which are in the calendar, there is none so heartily welcomed and kindly kept as that of Christmas by the young or the old.
In every way, Christmas come a- creeping by many an olden memory long buried in your hearts, by many a new hope just born, by your love and your sorrows, by your midnight dreams and day light facets or by the outward appearance of nature. And all feel, at least for a time a universal brotherhood or sisterhood for mankind.
In this northern part of Luzon where Daily Laborer spent most of his troubles through muck, rain and sunshine, the distinguishing feature during the advent of Christmas is hearing a “probinsiano” or “probinsiana” from the highland provinces warmly greet somebody with the words “Ay Meli Kulismas ken sik-a!” (Meryy Christmas to you).
In Bontoc, Mountain Province, for example, “Bontokians” arriving at their hometown and offloading at vehicles where they took and paid for their rides would usually be greeted with a merry repartee or joke by their province mates with the words, “Na, inmali ka. Ilam man nu wad-ay nakayad.” (Good you came home. See if there is something left from your fare and let happy time roll).
During Christmas, the joke is more pronounced. Any Bontoc home comer will be met with the same words with a little bit of alteration like, “Da, inmali ka pet. Ilam man nu wad-ay nakayad tay Kulismas.” (Good you came home. Now, look here, province mate, see if there is something left from your fare, because, you know, it is Christmas time!”
Christmas greetings from other provinces in Cordillera would be stated different in different tribal lingos , but the setting similar and the universal message – for one brother to another brother coming home, from one sister to another sister coming home, from one parent to another parent coming home, from one cousin to another cousin coming home, from one child to another child coming home, from one dad to another dad coming home, from one Mom to another Mom coming home – resonates practically the same, that “ God rest, you, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day. . .”
Picture Christmas as Benevolence, fine reader. One of those milder and gentler exhibitions which throw over everybody a radiance of dignity, and which, by its own power, illumines many a dark spot, cheers many a desolate hearth, seeds the evergreen hope in many a despondent bosom and administers a healing balm to many a breaking soul.
An elder from the Cordillera highlands once said to Daily Laborer that the spirit of benevolence embraces every assistance of weakness, or supply of want which arises from a pure desire of benefitting and elevating people that need benevolence.
Our own wants and those of our offspring have our most prominent regards but ever and anon the emotion of sympathy will be made manifest in our care for others. And Christmas time is one of those times we can do it, so said the elder.
For on Christmas, the language of sympathy is its own, said the elder. It speaks to the heart; it is irresistible. It is mild as a moon-beam, penetrating like a spike and cheering as the breath of the Baby in a Manger.
From Daily Laborer: Enjoy the festive season!!!
