Munting Gamu-gamo criticisms.
May lilipad-lipad na isang gamu-gamo
Sa tapat ng ilaw ng lamparang ito. I listened to her, full of childish enthusiasm. I marveled
Tuwang-tuwa siya sa liwanag nito. at the nice-sounding phrases which she read from
Paikut-ikot pa ang munting gamu-gamo. those same pages. The phrases she read so easily
stopped me at every breath. Perhaps I grew tired of
Sabi ng nanay niya, O anak, halika. listening to sounds that had no meaning for me.
Ikaw ay lumayo sa malaking lampara. Perhaps I lacked self-control. Anyway, I paid little
Baka mamaya lang ikay mahagip pa attention to the reading. I was watching the cheerful
Ng silab ng apoy na maganda sa mata. flame. About it, some little moths were circling in
playful flights. By chance, too, I yawned. My mother
Ay hindi po Inay, akoy mag-iingat. soon noticed that I was not interested. She stopped
Titingin-tingin lang at lilipad-lipad. reading. Then she said to me: "I am going to read you
Hindi po lalapit, di po isasayad, a very pretty story. Now pay attention."
Ang maliliit kot magagandang pakpak.
On hearing the word 'story' I at once opened my eyes
Walang anu-anoy narinig ang sigaw, wide. The word 'story' promised something new and
Nitong gamu-gamong dating sumasayaw. wonderful. I watched my mother while she turned the
Lugmok ang katawan, pakpak ay natunaw, leaves of the book, as if she were looking for
Nasunog na pala sa lamparang tanglaw. something. Then I settled down to listen. I was full of
curiosity and wonder. I had never even dreamed that
Umiyak si Ina at naghihinagpis there were stories in the old book which I read without
O anak, bakit nga ba ikaw ay makulit? understanding. My mother began to read me the fable
Matigas ang ulot di mapilit-pilit, of the young moth and the old one. She translated it
Sa gawang di-dapat siya mo namang nais. into Tagalog a little at a time.
Maging aral nawat maging halimbawa, My attention increased from the first sentence. I looked
Ang nangyayaring itong matinding sakuna. toward the light and fixed my gaze on the moths which
Mabait, sumunod sa mga babala were circling around it. The story could not have been
ng inyong magulang, na nag-aaruga. better timed. My mother repeated the warning of the
old moth. She dwelt upon it and directed it to me. I
On The Story of the Moth heard her, but it is a curious thing that the light
One night, all the family, except my mother and seemed to me each time more beautiful, the flame
myself, went to bed early. Why, I do not know, but we more attractive. I really envied the fortune of the
two remained sitting alone. The candles had already insects. They frolicked so joyously in its enchanting
been put out. They had been blown out in their globes splendor that the ones which had fallen and been
by means of a curved tube of tin. That tube seemed to drowned in the oil did not cause me any dread.
me the finest and most wonderful plaything in the
world. The room was dimly lighted by a single light of My mother kept on reading and I listened breathlessly.
coconut oil. In all Filipino homes such a light burns The fate of the two insects interested me greatly. The
through the night. It goes out just at day-break to flame rolled its golden tongue to one side and a moth
awaken people by its spluttering. which this movement had singed fell into the oil,
fluttered for a time and then became quiet. That
My mother was teaching me to read in a Spanish became for me a great event. A curious change came
reader called "The Children's Friend" (El Amigo de los over me which I have always noticed in myself
Ninos). This was quite a rare book and an old copy. It whenever anything has stirred my feelings. The flame
had lost its cover and my sister had cleverly made a and the moth seemed to go further away and my
new one. She had fastened a sheet of thick blue paper mother's words sounded strange and uncanny. I did not
over the back and then covered it with a piece of cloth. notice when she ended the fable. All my attention was
fixed on the face of the insect. I watched it with my
This night my mother became impatient with hearing whole soul... It had died a martyr to its illusions.
me read so poorly. I did not understand Spanish and so
I could not read with expression. She took the book As she put me to bed, my mother said: "See that you
from me. First she scolded me for drawing funny do not behave like the young moth. Don't be
pictures on its pages. Then she told me to listen and disobedient, or you may get burnt as it did." I do not
she began to read. When her sight was good, she read know whether I answered or not... The story revealed
very well. She could recite well, and she understood to me things until then unknown. Moths no longer
verse-making, too. Many times during Christmas were, for me, insignificant insects. Moths talked; they
vacations, my mother corrected my poetical know how to warn. They advised just like my mother.
compositions, and she always made valuable
The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown
more dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the
moths circled the flame.
