The Richest Man I Know

Revisiting my childhood home stirred many cherished memories of our simple Christian traditions. One that stands out is our nightly rosary group, which met in different homes within our community. I don’t know how the houses were selected, but I’m certain financial status wasn’t a factor. Even as a child, I could tell the difference between wealthy and less fortunate families.

We prayed the rosary twice a week in different homes. Sometimes, my brother and I missed the gatherings because of upcoming exams. I remember my friend’s comments: “You missed it last night! We were at Mr. Ike Uy’s (not his real name). His living room was huge and so clean!” I regret missing the opportunity to see inside my wealthy neighbors’ large house.

However, one family’s genuine warmth completely changed my perspective. I still cherish the memory. After a period of exams, my brother and I were eager to rejoin the group. When I asked where we were meeting, a friend replied, “Nong Carding’s tonight!” A surge of excitement filled me; Nong Carding was a kind and beloved friend to everyone.

Nong Carding’s home was small and rented, a simple structure of wood and a low cardboard ceiling. He lived there with his wife, a homemaker, and their four children. If I had to describe him, it would be “ready to break his piggybank for you” – his generosity was boundless. He always found a way to offer something special to visitors. I was deeply touched by his willingness to host us, despite his financial limitations. He even cooked a delicious maja blanca for us.

In my memory, Nong Carding was the wealthiest person we visited. He didn’t hesitate to accept our group, and he did everything he could to make us feel welcomed. This experience made me realize that sometimes, those with the least are the most generous, readily sharing what little they have.

It makes me reflect: In this Lenten season, what sacrifices am I willing to make? What is my “piggy bank” that I can break open for others? (Francis Manayan)