When I was a tiny girl, everyone looks gigantic. But this story is not about me.
The story started when I was a tiny girl watching my sister sew clothes for a living. I remember she kept a little statuette tucked in her bra. Always.
I thought that must be uncomfortable having this thing poking her breast.
Then we parted. She left the Philippines for Canada to have a better life.
A few years later we were reunited. Thanks to her and her husband, they sponsored my Mother and seven of her siblings, I included. Lucky me.
One day she lost the statue, her baby, Infant Jesus of Prague, somewhere in one of her travels. I never thought how vital this statue to her but her devotion is palpable.
Years went by, she transformed from a successful dressmaker to a missionary to promote devotion to the infant and bring a replica of the statue of Infant to various countries.
Strange things do happen. Her statuette came back to her.
Part of her mission is to give away used clothing collected from other countries by the bag full. When she was checking the dress, the statue fell out from a pocket of a shirt.
The rest is details.
As a family, we teased her all the time that she is setting up a kindergarten school or daycare at her house.
What do you give someone who has so much faith?
Send her to where baby Jesus was born. Bethlehem.