Letter for my Lola, A Story

Zaldy Carreon de Leon Jr.

There are wonderful surprises you would not expect to see when you open an old dusty book.

Welch was young, about twelve years old, but unlike those young boys his age, you could find him on the most boring place you could imagine – at the rare books collection of the library. At first, librarians do not allow him to enter because of his age. In fact he was the only boy who was given permission to enter that section where, traditionally, only few scholars and researchers can prowl through the age-forgotten books. But Welch has not done it for nothing. He’s looking for something extraordinary. Here is his story.

Every time Welch’s grandma would be celebrating her birthday, her only birthday wish is to read that old letter that her husband left in a book at the library about fifty years ago. She did not know which book it was – but it could be a very old book. His grandpa is so in-loved with her grandma, he literally wrote poems and love letters every week before they went to Church as a surprise. Well, as time gone, his surprises became a tradition. Grandma loved that kind of romance with him. But most unfortunate things happen, when the second World War was declared, grandpa has to do his military duty. Three months in the infantry then no news arrive from him. Until one day, a letter from a certain military office gave grandma a medal that is still hung at grandpa’s uniformed photo. She was left with five children, my mother being the youngest. That hurts her a lot – I never saw grandpa but who would forget a man like that?

One day, with some friends of mine, I asked grandma to tell us a story:

“Lola Letty, please tell us about grandpa’s story.”

“Which one, apo?”

“Hmmm… that love letter thing, lola.”

“Okay, apo. When we were in College, your grandpa is a silent person. I often found him at the library at the rare books section. I saw him read Tolstoy and other Russian romantic writers and some American or may be, Milton, favorite classic. I would come with him one day, and he’s very shy. But, at the end, he ends up with me….” Smiling.

“Lola, how’s the love letter?”

‘His lolo is a poet, someone who makes poems. He wrote the most beautiful poems I ever read in my life. Of course, it was dedicated to me. I was his inspiration.”

The kids shout, “wow!” with amazement.

“That’s my lolo!” Welch exclaimed. They laugh together…

“Then, we got married. After many years, he told me that he remembered something. He said, ‘Letizia, you know, I remember something.’ ‘What is that, dear?’ ‘Well, I’m not sure, but there is a certain letter I left in a certain book at the library.’ ‘What kind of letter?’ ‘Ah, it’s a love letter for you.’ ‘There’s so many letters you’ve given me. Forget that, dear.’ ‘No, that one is different. It’s the most beautiful love letter I ever wrote.’”

I saw grandma’s tear suddenly accumulates in the shallow of her eyes.

“Then, the War Department called upon him for duty. I do not want him to go but he should. The last thing he ever said is, ‘If I ever leave you, dear. Find the letter and you’ll be with me…”

Mom culled the silence with a merienda call. My friends went at the table. Before I went at the table, I whispered lola, “Lola, don’t worry. I would look for that love letter at the library.”

So that night, I tried to ask mom:

“Ma, where would that love letter be?”

“Welch, get over it. Your lola is only delusional about that love letter. May be she just missed your grandpa. There’s no such thing at the library.”

“But ma, what if ….there is…”

“Welch, good night. I want to sleep right now. Good night, dear.”

“Good night ma.”

My mom never tried to look for it saying lola is just delusional. So I thought I was lola’s last chance – Indeed, I’ve been going through all the thousand books at the library a week less than a year without having seen a letter clipped or inserted in the collection. Oftentimes, I came home late. I went at the library every Saturday too but to no avail. That love letter thing made me crazy. I asked the librarian if there are other books aside from the general collection. They told me there are but I am not permitted to go because I am too young to handle old and rare books. Six days are left before her birthday. I am losing hope, until…

“Something troubling you, young man?”

I was surprised to see my teacher, Mr. Manuel. “Good morning, sir!”

“No. seat down. Seat down. I heard you ask the librarian if there are other books aside from the general collection. Why is that so?”

At first I was hesitant to answer the question. But I tried my best to explain my eagerness and my grandma’s love letter story.”

I saw a stint of smile at Mr. Manuel’s face. He told me, thus:

“You’re very lucky. The Chief Librarian is a good friend of mine. Let’s tell him about it. He may help you.”

“Thank you, teacher. My grandma will be very happy about this.”

To wit the story short, I was allowed to enter the rare book section. These books are pre-war books, and these are very old. These are the very books grandpa saw when he was in his youth. And if that so, his letter may be in one of these. Days after days of browsing the catalogued section, we found nothing. “Teacher, is there any hope of finding it?” “Son, we’re done with the catalogued section. But hope we find something at the uncatalogued. We have to go at the basement.” Unfortunately, we are not allowed to go. I end up crying the day before my lola’s birthday.

“Lola, I have something to tell you.”

“I try to look for grandpa’s letter for you, but I cannot find it. It should have been my present to you.”

With tears, “Don’t you worry, apo. Your grandpa will just tell me the content of that letter when I went home with him.”

“Are you not home here, lola?”

She laughed.

On the day of the celebration, I was not feeling very cheerful because I feel like I fail lola. However, some visitors belled the door – I saw Mr. Manuel, the Chief Librarian, and many others came to visit us. At first, I thought they were just here to celebrate with my lola’s birthday. But there’s something I can’t explain when I saw mom cried and hugged my teacher … I don’t know why. It’s surreal.

Then, Lola was asked to blow the candle, and wish. She said, “I should have wished for the love letter. But why should I look for the letter, when love is already here?” Everybody clapped their hands. Mom called Mr. Manuel and the Chief Librarian. The Chief Librarian was holding a brown envelop.

“Mom, at first, I don’t believe about that letter from pa. But----,” cries. She had not finished her words…

My teacher continued, “I have a student, your apo, Welch, who diligently pour in every book from the library for a year. Mr. David, here, the Chief Librarian, has something to say…”

Lola, happy birthday po. Your apo’s love for you made me soft. In fact, I did not allow Mr. Manuel to pressure themselves about a seemingly non-existent love letter in our collection. But after much contemplation, I myself and the library staff, yesterday – Sunday – after Church, I called upon them to volunteer in search of that letter.”

“H-h-have you f-f-ind the letter, g-gentlemen?,” with tears.

“Lola, here is the letter. A gift from your apo.”

I was called by Mr. Manuel to read the letter for my lola. I was in heavy tears, as everyone else in the party does. The music was called off, and the moment I saw the letter, I look at the heavens to thank the Lord. I saw Lola’s eager face, saying, “Read, apo. Read.” Crying.

Dearest Letizia,

I know you are God’s gift to me. That’s why I kept you wholeheartedly. There will be time when you’ll be in tears, but always remember every songs and poems I’ve written for you. These are the bond that will keep us together even from afar. If ever you found this letter I intentionally hid, that’s because I still think of you even so here in heaven. It’s beautiful here – angels were singing, the harps and guitars are playing. I am making poems for you to read soon. We are safe here, my love.

I miss you. Come home with me, dear.

Love, Faustino

Everyone in the party wept in happiness. My aunts and uncles, including my mom hugged Lola. But Lola reached for me… She softly grasped my hands, saying:

“Your lolo wants me home, apo.” I said, “Lola, it’s too early pa po. The party is not yet over, lola.” Lola kissed me at the forehead. She smiled at me. That’s the sweetest smile I ever saw from lola’s face… She’s very happy, I thought.

But on that very night, on her 100th year, holding grandpa’s very letter in her heart, lola went home happily ever after.

She brought the love letter to him.