It was a Friday night. The family was together after a couple of months of not seeing each other. We live in different cities so we rarely have get-togethers unless there’s an event or a special occasion. And this time, it was our home town’s Fiesta. We all went to our Aunt’s place which is where we usually hold reunions. Everyone was jolly. We were throwing punch lines that people outside the family will never understand. The adults were preparing dinner while the little kids were minding their own business, busy with the world they were living in at that particular moment.
My mom finally called everyone to the table. The dinner is ready. Before beginning to eat, my Aunt led a prayer. We thanked the Lord for the food and for bringing our family together. And then we ate. We all reminisced about past memories. We laughed in between bites. We joked around. And suddenly, one of my nieces dropped her fork and it fell on the ground. There was a moment of silence. Then my cousin said, “Someone’s coming for a visit.”
It is a common superstitious belief among Filipinos that when a fork drops on the floor, a man will come visit. If it was a spoon, on the other hand, a woman will come. Growing up, every time a fork drops on the floor, I remember secretly wishing that the man they say will be coming to visit is my father. Yes, I knew that it was only a superstition. I knew that there was really no man nor woman coming even if I drop my entire plate on the floor. There was no scientific explanation, no connection. But I still wished and prayed. I still hoped.
Wishing for my father to turn up whenever a fork gets dropped on the floor caused disappointment. But it taught me one important thing. To hope. I kept on hoping that one day, my father will show up on our doorstep. I kept hoping that somewhere, somehow, my father still thinks about me.
Hoping for something you think is impossible to happen is most of the time frustrating. It gives you tons of disappointment. It makes you question why people even hope. You might not see it now, but hoping will make everything worthwhile. I hoped, as a child, for my father to show up and when he did, it made hoping a lot sweeter. If I hadn’t hoped for it, him showing up would have felt just like any normal day. It wouldn’t have made me happier. But I did. I hoped for it. I wished and prayed and it came true.
So never stop hoping. Everything might not be how you want it to be right now, but it will be, in time. You’ll see.
This is in response to the prompt Fork.