3 December 1886

Berlin

3 December 1886

MRS. TEODORA ALONZO

MY DEAREST MOTHER,

Although I haven’t received news about your health for months now, I flatter myself, however, with the belief that you are enjoying the best of health, for otherwise my brothers and brothers-in-law would have already informed me about it. I don’t know absolutely how you spend your time there, how you amuse yourselves, and live. I imagine that you play with your grandchildren the whole day which is the best and most wholesome thing to do – to rejoice at everything the good God sends us, at the world, light, air, at all the blessings He bestows upon us. That is the way I imagine it in my humble opinion, that God above also rejoices at seeing his creatures contented and happy with the worldly possessions He has given them, just as my parents ought to be happy when they see their children and grandchildren happy, laughing and leaving all the plates on the table clean, for I don’t believe that God is like those haughty misers who give a sumptuous feast, but wouldn’t want their guests to eat turkey or ham but only rice and salt, and better still if they fast. This is then my way of thinking, partly philosophical, partly naturalistic, and may God forgive me if I believe thus, for it is my concept of a good father. For this reason, I pity the good Benefictines and Carthusians[1] when I read their histories (stories?) of their penitence.

In truth, were I God, I would leave them food or drink, giving them besides… rheumatism, and other bothersome ailments so that they might have cause for penitence for every hour of their useless and lachrymose life. They say notwithstanding that they do contract many diseases, but these are due to the filth in which they live rather than being sent by God, for God is not filth nor does He cause diseases if we age to believe the holy book of the little forbearing Job. Because you must know that Job didn’t have much patience. The man, it is true, suffered the death of his children and the loss of his herd but he couldn’t bear sickness nor the gossip of his friends and he cursed terribly the day of his conception and birth, which is… [illegible] … nor when I had the itch nor in those moments when I was rubbed with ubas de gogo[2] which was never agreeable to me, nor when I heard Father Cueto preach two hours on the Most Holy Trinity, the most boresome that one can hit upon in this life. When Father Cueto preaches, he makes the friends of Job very small indeed. Well now, I haven’t cursed the day of my conception nor have I ever called Father Cueto “bad man”, “devoid of intelligence”, nor have I told him… [illegible] as he did and mind you I was a child and the least forbearing and the most… [illegible] and talkative that Calamba has produced; I don’t hush up even the most insignificant thoughts. It is evident that Job was neither a very patient man nor…[illegible], as he is believed to be. All those who say “Patience of Job” haven’t read Job and if they have read him, they haven’t understood the language which they read, etc., etc. After putting things in their proper places — not allow ourselves to be guided by what many repeat – I return to my theme, that of religion in the family, for I know you like religious topics. And as I have no other thing to talk to you about, I shall devote myself to it principally.

I can say that until now the constitution of the Filipino family, of the Tagalog at least, is one of the best, if not the best, I have yet seen in trips. I believe it would be perfect had it not some defects that I’m not going to state because I don’t want to write anything that is dark and gloomy that will make us feel sad. You’ll remember what I told you in talking about the curate of Wilhelmsfeld. that he didn’t invite his son to drink with him during their trips but instead he drank alone, although he knew very well that the hapless boy was very thirsty, a thing a Tagalog father would never have done. Well then, what neither a Tagalog lad would have done, a German did. The hapless lad was traveling with his father and mother, and the three, being thirsty, entered a tavern and the father ordered two glasses of beer. “How?” exclaimed the lad and “For mother? Doesn’t mother drink beer?”

Now I remember other customs, those of the Scotch. It is said that when the son gets to be twenty-five years old, the father presents him with an account of all that he had spent for him, and he goes into a deal with him, he bargains, and finally they agree on the manner of paying this debt.

[The rest of the letter is missing]

01-185 [Family]