Chapter 1: My Birth - Early Years

I was born in Calamba on 19 June 1861, between eleven and midnight, a few days before full
moon. It was a Wednesday and my coming out in this vale of tears would have cost my mother
her life had she not vowed to the Virgin of Antipolo to take me to her sanctuary by way of
pilgrimage. (02)

All I remember of my early days is I don't know how I found myself in a town with some scanty
notions of the morning sun, of my parents, etc.

The education that I received since my earliest infancy was perhaps what has shaped my habits,
like a jar that retains the odor of the body that it first held. I still remember the first melancholy
nights that I spent on the terrace [azotea- Zaide] of our house as if they happened only yesterday
nights full of the saddest poem that made impression of my mind, the stronger the more
tempestuous my present situation is. I had a nurse (aya Zaide] who loved me very much and
who, in order to make me take supper (which I had on the terrace on moonlit nights), frightened
me with the sudden apparition of some formidable asuang. [ghosts), of a frightful nuno, or parce-
nobis, as she used to call an imaginary being similar to the Bu of the Europeans. They used to
take me for a stroll to the gloomiest places and at night near the flowing river, in the shade of
some tree, in the brightness of the chaste Diana.. Thus was my heart nourished with somber and
melancholic thoughts, which even when I was a child already wandered on the wings of fantasy
in the lofty regions of the unknown.

I had nine sisters and one brother. My father, a model of fathers, had given us an educational
commensurate with our small fortune, and through thrift he was able to build a stone house, buy
another, and to erect a little nipa house in the middle of our orchard under the shade of banana
trees and others. Ah! It would be endless if I were to enumerate all our trees and entertain myself
in naming them! At the close of the day numerous birds came from all parts, and I, still a child of
three years at the most, entertained myself by looking at them with unbelievable joy. The yellow
callauan, the maya of different varieties, the culae, the maria capra, themartin, all the species of
pitpit, joined in a pleasant concert and intoned in varied chorus a hymn of farewell to the sun that
was disappearing behind the tall mountains of my town. Then the clouds, through a whim of
nature, formed a thousand figures that soon dispersed, as such beautiful days passed away also,
leaving behind them only the flimsiest remembrances. Alas! Even now when I look out the
window of our house to the beautiful panorama at twilight, my past impressions come back to
my mind with painful eagerness!

Afterwards comes night; it extends its mantle, sometimes gloomy through starred, when the
chaste Delia (03) does not scour the sky in pursuit of her brother Apollo. But if she appears in the
clouds, a vague brightness is delineated Afterwards, as the clouds break up, so to speak, little by
little, she is seen beautiful, sad, and hushed, rising like an immense globe, as if an omnipotent
and invisible hand is pulling her through the spaces. Then my mother would make us recite the
rosary all together. Afterward we would go to the terrace or to some window from which the
moon can be seen and my nurse would tell us stories, sometimes mournful, sometimes gay, in
which the dead, gold plants that bloomed diamonds were in confused mixtures, all of them born
of an entirely oriental imagination. Sometimes she would tell us that men lived in the moon and
the specks that we observed on it were nothing else but a woman who was continuously spinning

When I was four years old I lost my little sister (Concha) and then for the first time I shed tears
caused by love and grief, for until then I had shed them only because of my stubbornness that my
loving proving mother so well knew how to correct. All Without her what would have become of
my education and what wild have been my fate? Oh, yes! After God the mother is everything to
man. She taught me how to read, she taught me how to stammer the humble prayers that
addressed fervently to God and now that I've a young man, ah where is that simplicity, that
innocence of my early days?

In my own town I learned how to write, and my father, who looked after my education, paid an
old man (who had been his classmate) to give me the first lessons in Latin and he stayed at our
house. After some five months he died, having almost foretold his death when he was still in
good health. I remember that I came to Manila with my father after the birth of the third girl
(Trinidad) who followed me, and it was on 6 June 1868. We boarded a casco, (04) a very heavy
craft. I had never yet gone through the lake of La Laguna consciously and the first time. I did, I
spent the whole night near the catig, (04) admiring the grandeur of the liquid element, the
quietness of the night, while at the same time a superstitious fear took hold of me when I saw a
water snake twine itself on the bamboo canes of the outriggers. With what joy I saw the sunrise;

for the first time I saw how the luminous rays shone, producing a brilliant effort on the ruffled
surface of the wide lake. With what joy I spoke to my father for I had not uttered a single word
during the night. Afterward we went to Antipolo. I'm going to stop to relate the sweetest
emotions that I felt at every step on the banks of the Pasig (that a few years later would be the
witness of my grief), in Cainta, Taytay, Antipolo, Manila, Santa Ana, where we visited my eldest
sister (Saturnina) who was at that time a boarding student at La Concordia. (05) I returned to my
town and I stayed in it until 1870, the first year that marked my separation from my family.

This is what I remember of those times that figure in the forefront of my life like the dawn of the
day. Alas, when shall the night come to shelter me so that I may rest in deep slumber? God
knows it! In the meantime, now that I'm in the spring of life, separated from the beings whom I
love and most in the world, now that sad, I write these pages... let us leave Providence to act, and
let us give time to time, awaiting from the will of God the future, good or bad, so that with this I
may succeed to expiate my sins.

8 Dulambayan, (06) Sta. Cruz, Manila 11 September 1878.

Objective:

 To understand how Rizal's early environment, family life, and initial education
influenced his intellectual development, emotional maturity, and later ideals as a national
hero.

Directions for the Activity:

1. Read the Chapter: Carefully read Chapter 1 of José Rizal's life, paying close attention to
his early years, his family dynamics, and the events that shaped him.
2. Answer the Question: Based on the chapter, write an essay responding to the question,
focusing on how Rizal’s early experiences influenced his values and aspirations.
3. Use Specific Examples: Support your answer with specific references to Rizal’s family
life, childhood memories, interactions with nature, and early education.
4. Length: Your essay should be minimum of 250 words long, demonstrating both a clear
understanding of the chapter and your ability to connect Rizal’s early life to his later
achievements.