Pan de Sal Saves the Day. Norma Olizon-Chikiamco

      To Calixto, Pia and Clarissa, with love

      Of all the kids in school, Pan de Sal felt that she was the unluckiest. She did not like the way she looked. Her skin was too dark, she hated her flat nose, and she found her oblong face weird. Besides, whoever heard of a girl being named Pan de Sal anyway? How she envied her classmates! There was Croissant, with her golden brown skin, tall nose, and curves in all the right places. And there was Danish, who looked so fair and neat, with beauty marks here and there that reminded Pan de Sal of sweet raisins. Muffin’s skin was brown too, but unlike Pan de Sal’s, it had a luster that glowed and made her look so attractive. Many people in school liked Muffin because she was so sweet.

      Some people thought Doughnut had a rather odd shape. But it didn’t matter because he always impressed people with his rich wardrobe. Sometimes he came to school all in white, much like the frosting on a cake. At other times Doughnut wore chocolate-colored outfits, or clothes the shade of strawberry milkshake.

      Honey Bread was popular too. She got her name from her glossy complexion which was exactly the same shade as honey. Honey often got into sticky situations but since she was so nice, everyone always forgave her. Her brother, Super Bread, was probably the fairest boy in class and was very smart too. He always had the right answers to everything. Their cousin Bread Stick was very tall and slim and she was sure that she was going to be a famous fashion model someday.

      All of Pan de Sal’s classmates lived in beautiful homes. Croissant’s parents had a lovely chalet on a hilltop, with a sweeping view of the countryside from one long end to one long end. Honey and Super Bread lived in a cozy cottage surrounded by a garden of roses, daisies and sunflowers. Muffin lived in a ranch house with windows framed by pink and white curtains that cascaded all the way down to the hardwood floor.

      And Pan de Sal? Poor me, she thought, every time she went home to the nipa hut she shared with her parents and younger brothers. Not only that. She also had to walk to school every day, across a rice field, past a river, and up and down the hillsides. At first her father walked with her to school, but when she learned the way, she had to go alone. After days of doing that, her legs no longer ached and she even found a secret trail that cut through the meadows and brought her to school much faster.

      Their nipa hut had bamboo slats for floor, and doors made of sawali. Sometimes the cold wind would blow through the flimsy walls so to keep warm, Pan de Sal and her brothers would huddle under the blankets that their grandmother had woven for them.

      On weekends and after school, Pan de Sal had to do her share of the household chores. She washed all the dishes by hand, with water from a pail that her father fetched from a nearby well. To polish the floor, Pan de Sal and her mother used large leaves plucked from a tree, which removed all the dirt and made the floor look so shiny and bright.

      Television and radio were way too expensive for them, so for entertainment, the family would sing together in the evenings. Their mother taught Pan de Sal and her brothers all the songs she had learned as a child and the family would often gather after supper to hear her sing of immortal love, of the happy life in the countryside and of an old pair of wooden shoes.