House of Love by Maria Arilia A. Tolentino

Imagine waiting everyday for someone to finally show up, take you into his/her family, and treat you as his/her own flesh and blood. Imagine being abandoned and deliberately surrendered by your own parents to a group of people who they barely know. Imagine being sold by your mother to a person who wants you more than she does.


The kids in Concordia need not imagine these situations because they themselves are experiencing it. Concordia is an NGO (non-government organization) that wholeheartedly accepts children who were given up by their own parents because of personal reasons. Most of the infants and toddlers housed in the institution were surrendered, meaning they were legally entrusted to the said NGO. However, in Concordia, there is one child who was just left by his mother in the Altura Bridge. This makes him an abandoned one. Anyone can opt to adopt either an infant or toddler from the organization, but the processing of the papers in DSWD and waiting for the result of the court case will take about six to seven months. Ate Brenda Gonzales, one of the eduactors and social coordinators who accompanied me during my visit, said that foreigners like Australians, Germans and Americans are the ones who usually adopt a baby. However, the house is open to anyone who does not want to adopt a baby, but just wants to spend time with the kids by feeding them and playing with them.

Concordia is located in Sta. Mesa, Manila. The organization rents a house that serves as a roof for neglected children and it is also actually a day-care centre for elementary students. High school students head to Concordia after school to do their homework. The teachers of the said organization help them with their assignments and educate them about the moral values of life.

Last Friday, when I entered the green gates of Concordia, the first people I saw were kids laughing at each other and painting on sheets of bond paper using watercolour. As I walked in, they all looked up from their tables and smiled the brightest smiles I ever saw. My heart warmed as I looked at them and as I smiled back. Ate Brenda put one hand on my shoulder and led me to the kids. She called the attention of everyone and introduced me as someone who wanted to chat with them and to get to know them more. One girl whose face was smeared with pink paint shouted, "Ay, si Ate! Kilala ko siya!" (Oh, it's Ate! I know her!) I laughed and waved at the familiar-looking kid. I was surprised that she still remembered me and I was flattered to see someone so excited that I was visiting them again. Then, Ate Brenda allowed me to go in the house and hang out with the infants who were playing in the living room.

I went in and noticed that the house is small, somewhat old already, and the ventilation is not fit for babies and toddlers. In the living room, there were five babies crawling around and playing with their toys. I walked over to the babies who were moving around the colourful alphabet rubber mats and I sat beside them. One chubby infant stopped fiddling with the blocks of letters and then, he smiled toothlessly at me. I will never forget that picture of a baby whose smile was so innocent; he does not know what parents did to him, and yet his smile seemed to be telling me that everything is okay even though his family forgot all about him and erased him from their lives completely.

Around me, I saw a lot of toys. There were Spongebob and Barney stuffed toys, Little Tykes carts and other imported toys for toddlers. These are not ordinary toys, I thought to myself. I asked one of the caregivers, Ate Me-ann, if those toys were bought by Concordia, or just donated by generous people. She said that they were mostly donated and a few were provided by the organization. I assumed tha the donors must have bought the toys just for the kids in Concordia because the toys seemed new and unused. Even though the kids are housed with limited resources, they still get to enjoy the best toys as well as the best food.

After playing with the infants and toddlers, I went up the creaking wooden spiral stairs and checked out the second floor. It was really pretty much like a normal house: a narrow hallway, two sets of adjacent bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the rooms I entered was for the toddlers, another was for the infants and the third one was for the newly born. The toddlers have their own beds, while the infants and newly born have their own cribs. There were wooden cabinets in each room to store the clothes and toys of the kids. Along the hallway, there was a rack full of feeding bottles and pacifiers. Above these bottles were big cans of powdered milk for babies. Beside it, on the wall, was a list of the names of the in-house kids and the respective brands of milks fed to them. I was fascinated to see this because I know that baby milk is expensive nowadays, and Ate Brenda mentioned that hey needed more financial aid from supporters.

"Most of those are donated by people." Ate Brenda patiently explained as I studied the rack. "Milk is pricey, so it is usually the commodity donated by contributors."

Before going down, I stopped at the top of the stairs and I watched the caregivers bustle around, carrying babies, bottles and toys. I admired them for the work they chose. I know it is very hard to take care of your own child, but what more a child whom you are not even related to? By just observing the staff of Concordia, I felt the love. There is this certain stimulus that keeps them going, and I know that it is more than just plain pity for the kids. They willingly give out their love to protect and nurture each child surrendered to them.

Ate Brenda sat on a wooden chair beside me. We watched the kids play Luksong Tinik and we listened to their hearty laughs. She turned her face to me and I caught a glimpse of a certain sparkle in her eyes. "You know, the salary is not that high, but I want to continue on helping the kids, teaching them new things. Sometimes, they just scream, cry and try to get my attention, but these kids are really sweet and loving most of the time At the end of every day, I always feel that it is all worth it." She paused for a moment, gazed at the kids, and finished, "It is fulfilling."My heart went out to her. I understood how she felt and I knew that nothing could be compared to the feeling of being able to help a child who was just left behind.

I went back to the kids who were painting and I sat with them for a casual chat. When I settled on the green plastic chair beside the table, all of them flashed me a smile and told me not to be shy and to just ask away. Their hospitality and openness easily made me comfortable as each of them told me some bits of their lives. They are kids whose ages range from twelve to fourteen. Most of them are Grade Six students, and they come to Concordia right after school. They have a weekly schedule: Mondays, they mingle with the social workers; Tuesdays, Ate Brenda teaches them morals and values; Wednesdays, they learn about character; Thursdays, they study facts and reminders regarding their health. Finally, on Fridays, they engage in sports and arts. In addition to this, every card distribution, each of them should show their grades to the educators of Concordia. If they have failing marks, the teachers in the institution will tutor them.

Whenever I ask the kids a question, they would all look up to the skies first, as if asking God for the best answer, and then interesting stories would start spilling out of them. One girl named Rena shared that she wants to be a lawyer, but her parents discourage her because it is hard to sustain her studies. I felt a pang of anger toward her parents because they should not discourage a child who has an ambition. There are always means to reach whatever goal she has, I thought to myself.

I learned that each of the kids who come in after school have sponsors. These sponsors annually give four thousand pesos worth of cash to Concordia for their chosen kids' allowance and school supplies. I wondered what if the organization lacked sponsors. Ate Brenda told me that they actually have many sponsors and that in fact, most of the sponsors chose to have more than one kid to support. This information made me feel that there are still people who share their money and time to those who need it. Even though the annual supply of four thousand pesos means only twelve pesos of allowance everyday, I know that it more or less helps the children buy their necessities especially those for school.

Everything in Concordia has a meaning. Everything I saw made me realize things. It is my third time to go there, and each time I spend my day with kids and the people who work there, I am able to say to myself that life IS worth living. Concordia has this feeling of "being home". The staffs are friendly and approachable. The kids, whether they were abandoned or surrendered, are all sweet and charming. Concordia is a reminder that not everyone is bad in this world. There are still people who make up for the wrong of others. It is a reminder that love still exists. It serves as my reminder because Concordia is what I call a "house of love".