บท 2: GOLDEN SPOON

My head ached from traveling so much, and the jet lag is giving me a hard time. We were just in the Hiramatsu Kyoto hotel here in Tokyo and had our breakfast which consisted of their very best dishes. Some of them are my favorite sushi, sashimi, ramen, and kare raisu.

After filling our tummies, we rushed to Narita Airport and boarded a flight to Venice. We arrived at Venice Airport and went straight to Osteria Alle Testiere Venezia for lunch. Where we had different kinds of pizza, lasagna, and gelato. It's delicious.

Vacation is truly amazing in these beautiful countries. My dad works as the CEO in a Japan-based Mitsui Food Manufacturing Company with subsidiaries in the Philippines, Canada, and the U.S. He also works with a food manufacturing company, that's why we could afford the privilege of paid vacations. My mom works as a Quality Assurance Manager. She is so particular on sanitation, Good Manufacturing Practices, and the HACCP, which I don't understand- I just overheard her talking on the phone about it.

Born in a family with a golden spoon because of my grandfather who is a successful businessman, And when my grandpa died, he was ensured that my father and aunty will have the initial wealth to start with and my mom came from a rich hacienda, a sugar plantation in the Philippines.

We are just two in the family, and I'm the youngest- the favorite girl of my dad and brother who just became a Lieutenant in the military. From childhood to my high school days, I lived in a happy and active family. Regardless of my wealth, I also have a dream and it is to become a doctor who will help those in need, especially the poor.

"Why care about other people, why not dream to be richer than your parents?" Asked my friend, Anabelle. It's because I also want to know how the poor survive. I want to feel their plight. I just want to sympathize with the less fortunate ones. And when I told her those things, she went on about how weird and crazy I am for wasting time thinking about them.

It was all because of the nanny who took care of me when I was young. I will never forget her loving face, her caring hands, and her smile. Despite the heavy job she deals with every day. From taking care of us to preparing food, doing laundry, and folding our clothes, she was always there no matter what.

I can't forget that one time when a thief broke in our home and grabbed me as a hostage. My mom told me the details about that incident, that it changed our family's mindset when it comes to those in need.

I then realized that it was the tragedy rich people have to live with. Becoming targets and hostages of criminals who can do worse than stealing; murder.

Mom said that my nanny who was busy finishing the last batch of laundry was unaware of the dangers that may come. The thief was almost done collecting expensive gadgets, pieces of jewelry, and stacks of money all over the house when my nanny entered my room, carrying a tray of neatly folded clothes.

The thief was searching for expensive things in the nursery, standing near the crib where I laid sleeping. When both of them noticed what was happening, the thief grabbed me. My nanny pleaded for my safety, that I was just a baby, but the thief drew a pistol and pointed it on me.

She told the thief to take her instead of me, but he didn't want to do that. She begged and begged, placing the tray of clothes down to the dresser beside her. The thief pointed the gun at her which caused her to put her hands in the air to show him what she did.

After seeing that she wasn't doing something wrong, he then turned and pointed the gun at me, which made her panic. He was trying to shoot her out the door but she wouldn't risk leaving me, so she stood there crying, buying them time.

After threats and pleading, the thief noticed the phone on the nanny's hand, which wasn't there before. He instantly aimed the gun at her and shoot but my nanny saw it coming. She dived to get a lamp beside the tray of clothes and threw it on the hand of the thief, causing him to drop the gun.

He quickly bent down to retrieve his pistol when the nanny smacked him with the tray, careful not to hit me. She took me out of the thief's hand and immediately ran to the next room, but the thief had managed to get his gun and shoot my nanny at the back just before she could shut the door behind her.

She clutched me tighter in her arms and pushed herself to fall on her back to prevent me from hitting the floor and so she wouldn't fall on top of me. She kicked the door close and tried to notify the police, but she heard footsteps nearing the door- so she carefully sled me under the bed.

The faint siren of the police cars made my nanny cry out in relief. The thief must have heard it too because she heard the footsteps stop. And when she thought that they were finally safe, a couple more bullets were shot through the door, barely missing my nanny's arm.

She yelled in pain, touching her arms. She looked at her palm and saw a lot of blood on it. Fortunately, the guy living next door heard the gunshot and informed the police as soon as possible. When the police barged into the room, my nanny was already lying on her pool of blood, holding me safely in her arms. The ambulance came just on time to save her, but the police told my parents that the thief managed to escape on his motorcycle the moment they arrived. They tried their best to chase after the thief but they lost him.

After that experience, many changes had happened in our lives. We transferred to a new and secured house that is built with high-tech security and guards on patrol. My dad installed CCTV cameras in and out of the house, doors were PIN activated with direct alarm to the nearest police station.

It gave us a strong sense of security but my nanny cannot work for us again. Her arm was badly hurt, preventing her from being able to lift heavy things, which is part of her job, so she resigned. But for me, she is a brave hero. My parents stopped her from leaving as a gesture of gratitude and love. Even if she can't work the same way again.

I admire her attitude. She can smile and work hard without complaining regardless of her situation. Until she couldn't take the pain anymore. She also said that she felt uncomfortable receiving salaries for the job she can't do efficiently. My dad couldn't let her go, knowing that she also needs money for her family, so he sent her to the best doctor for better treatment and recovery.

Later on, she was still advised not to overwork but she stayed to see me as a baby at that time. That's when we started to develop our bond. She told me stories from the Bible, about her family in the province, and about poor people who suffer so much that they needed to leave their families just to work abroad, enduring a life filled with longing and homesickness.

She always reminded me to be a good girl and be thankful to God since I was so blessed for having a good family. They say our teachers are our second parents, but I consider her as my 2nd mother. She treats me so well as if I'm a child of her own and kindly discipline me. That made me love her more.

But there are times when she will hurt herself instead of spanking me for being disobedient, so she ends up crying because of the pain she inflicts on herself. I pity her for that, so I don't disobey them. My mom was surprised that I didn't grow up to be a spoiled brat, unlike my classmates and the other kids in the subdivision we live in.

I learned to bring my father his slippers the moment he comes home and kisses my parents' hand as a gesture of respect and love. That's all because of how my nanny raised me during the six years we were together.

I have so many good memories that I could recall whenever I miss her. I even memorized bible verses like John 3:16 which she would always read to me. "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whosoever Believes in Him will never perish but have eternal life." She quotes this verse again and again, who would be able to forget it?

There are times when she would ask my parents to send me to Sunday School whenever we don't have plans on weekends, because we usually go to resorts or travel abroad from Friday morning and go home on Sunday afternoon.

Attending Sunday School is so much fun, sometimes I like it better than traveling abroad or chilling on different resorts every weekend. There are lots of activities that I can do there, from drawing, coloring, socializing, and singing songs, to storytelling. It feels good hearing about the life of Bible characters like David and Goliath, but my favorite is the story of Queen Esther who saved her people because of her beautiful heart.

But then my me and my Nanny love story had to come to an end. She finally resigned and went home on my fifth birthday, because her daughter was ill and she needs to be there for her. That's why I became fond of the less privileged people, because not only did I live... I grew up to be a better person, and that's all thanks to her.