THIS happened on November 9, 1999, Thursday to be exact. I was a nine-year-old girl in fourth grade and for me, it was the same day as ever, except that I didn’t go to school because it was stormy outside.

We were taking our breakfast when my father came in. He worked the whole night and I was expecting he brought something for me and for my sister, as always. So when I opened the door, I was surprised to find my father was not carrying a little treat, he was carrying someone. That day, my father brought home a little baby.

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When my mom, with eyebrows high, asked for an explanation, my father said the one-month-old child, was his friend’s son. Unfortunately, the mom and dad of the child were not in good terms and they cannot give the child a promising future.

My father’s friends asked him to take care of the little boy, just temporarily, until his dad comes back to fetch him.

I felt a sudden gush pity for the kid as I looked at his sweet, innocent and angelic face. His lips were purple because of the cold, and his eyes were pleading.

Eugene, as what he was named, doesn’t deserve this kind of situation. How can his parents be so irresponsible?

Days, weeks and months passed but his father didn’t show up as planned. We found ourselves caring for the baby and so was my father. We became so attached to him that one day my father decided to talk with the parents and to close a deal. A deal to adopt little Eugene - no adoption papers, no lawyers involved.

They relented, probably feeling more sorry for themselves than they could for little Eugene. The only thing they asked from my father were P1,200 to pay the midwife who brought Eugene into the world.

A thousand and two hundred pesos in exchange for a life. Can you believe that? Well, I couldn’t at my very young age.

So when I heard about the deal, I asked my father, “What do they think of Eugene, a piglet?” This is because a piglet cost about the same that time. My father just sighed a long one.

Ten years had passed, and just last month, our family received the dreadful news: Eugene’s biological father was crushed to death by a bus. He left behind six other children aside from Aram Zion (my mom gave him a biblical name). His widow was pregnant on their eighth and she was planning to give the child to another couple’s custody… also in exchange for a trifling amount.

Right then and there I understood my father’s long sigh so many years ago - there are people whose hearts can be as hard as rocks that they can even trade their own flesh and blood just to feed their stomachs, people who cannot take full responsibility for their actions.

But can anyone blame these people for having a very hard life? Now, Aram still doesn’t know the truth, call me selfish or unfair, but I think it is better this way.

Still, no secret can remain unleashed, and when the time comes Aram Zion finds out the truth about his life, I know he’ll be thankful a family gave him warmth one stormy day. (Goldie Izon/Intern)