The narrator has been caring for his elderly mother for three years, but finds it increasingly difficult due to her deteriorating condition and childlike behavior. She cannot care for herself and he is responsible for all her needs. One night, while looking at the stars, the narrator has a "wonderful thought" and smiles, implying he has a plan to end his struggles. The next day, he takes especially good care of his mother. Late in the afternoon, he deceives her by saying he will take her to see a beautiful view, but instead leads her deep into the forest at night, planning to leave her there. However, upon hearing her sing a lullaby, he realizes how much she still cares

1. PLEASE TAKE ME HOME
Kendrick Castro Navarro
I cannot endure my mother anymore. She doesn’t want to take a bath. She is so disgusting.
I force her to take a bath at the well—we don’t have bathroom that’s why—but she really doesn’t
want to. Her teeth have cavities. Yes, she is not brushing her teeth. I told her to, but she doesn’t.
I’m sick of her foul smell. She doesn’t change her clothes either. She usually forgets. My goodness!
She cannot even recall my name, Juan. She is always asking me where she put her comb
with her name, Maria, engraved on it. She doesn’t even know where she lives. One day, I saw her
wrinkled hands holding a rusty machete while staring at me. I was shocked. I asked her why she
was holding it. She replied, “I don’t know.” She is scary! She’s probably planning to cut wood for
cooking, but she’s too old to do that.
I shout at her every time I speak. Her ears are damaged. There was one time I told her not
to go to the toilet. Moss is everywhere on the floor. But, she still went, and there, she slipped!
Bless the hearts of our neighbors who rushed my mother to the hospital. It is my fault, my
neighbors blamed me, for I did not yell at her. Poor mother.
My mother is horrible. She disposes her excrements wherever! She is ninety four years old,
but she is childish. It stinks. I have no choice. I need to clean it every time. For three years, I have
been doing this to her. I’m sick of it!
I feed her all the time – breakfast, lunch, dinner, and sometimes snacks. We often eat only
once or twice a day, this is a privilege. I will only feed her once or twice a day. She cannot eat by
herself. I always have to put her food in her mouth. She sometimes doesn’t want to eat. She slaps
me every time I force her to eat. She is very picky. She should know that we don’t have the means.
I only buy and sell used bottles, cans, plastics, and newspapers. Luckily, the barangay1
is
distributing one thousand pesos2
every month to every indigent like us. In this small nipa hut3
, I

2. am the bread winner, I am the cook, I am the washer, I am the cleaner, and I am everything! My
mother doesn’t do anything.
I cannot do what I want because of my mother. I want to go to school, but I can’t because
of my mother. I want to become a pilot, but I can’t because of my mother. My attention has been
upon her for three years. I don’t have time for myself anymore. One night, while looking at the
universe, a very wonderful thought came to my mind. Before I went to bed that night, I smiled.
The end is nigh, I thought.
The next day, I prepared tuyo4
, a scrambled egg, and tomatoes for breakfast for my mother.
This is a special delicacy for poor people like us. Thankfully, she was cooperative when I bathed
her. I was surprised that she didn’t say anything when I brushed her teeth. She even put on her new
clothes. This is such a strange day. For lunch, I fried eggplant and okra, reaped from our small
backyard. I also picked some camote5
tops. I boiled it. I mixed it with chopped tomatoes and
bagoong6
. I fed her as usual. Oddly, she ate. Good for her. Late afternoon came, finally.
“Inay7
, I have a surprise for you!” I yelled. “Grab my hand. I’ll take you to Bundok
Kamhantik,8
so you can see the beauty of Mulanay9
.”
My mother just nodded her head. I tightly grabbed and held her delicate left hand. We
walked slowly for her limbs are weak. With excitement, I said to myself while looking at her,
“This is the end.”
After we hiked for almost an hour, the sun was about to sleep. A mist of darkness began to
devour the forest. The breeze became even colder and colder. The trees were dancing with their
leaves clapping together, as if they were rejoicing for my victory. After a while, bats came out of
their caves that covered the heavens with blackness. We then came across the ancient limestone
graves on the ground. Some petrified skulls and bones were all over the place. As I stepped on my

3. right foot, I heard a crushing sound. I looked down. It was a skull. Suddenly, the rain came and the
ground began to be muddy and slippery.
As we moved forward into the dark and dreary forest, I was surprised. I was dumbfounded.
Despite her old age, she could still sing the song:
Sana'y di magmaliw ang dati kong araw
Nang munti pang bata sa piling ni nanay
Nais kong maulit ang awit ni inang mahal
Awit ng pag-ibig habang ako'y nasa duyan 10
“STOP!!!” I angrily exclaimed. But, she continued:
Sa aking pagtulog na labis ang himbing
Ang bantay ko'y tala, ang tanod ko'y bituin
Sa piling ni nanay, langit ay buhay
Puso kong may dusa sabik sa ugoy ng duyan 11
“I told you, STOP! I don’t want to hear that!” I tried to shut her mouth several times, but
she kept singing. I was annoyed and extremely irritated, so I turned back and stared at her hollowed
eyes. I was even more stunned at what I saw.
I saw her wrinkled pale right hand holding small branches. I was marveling at why she had
those. I really had no idea.
“Why are you breaking those branches?” I asked.
No words came out of her lips.
After a while, I felt a burning sensation to ask her again, “Why are you breaking those
branches?”
“My son,” she looked at me with her sunken eyes, “for you to know the way going back.”
I was silenced. I couldn’t utter. My limbs numbed. My feet weakened. My hands shook.
Silence came at the middle of the gloomy forest.

4. My breath deepened. My conscience wrecked me. My heart wept. Tightly and tenderly, I
hugged her. I cuddled her. She clasped her weak arms around me. Tears outpoured from my eyes
that night. She begged, “My son, please take me home.”
I felt exceeding remorse. I knew that very night that the chains of hell bounded and
consumed me. Compassion and penitence wrought my soul.
“You will always be my son. You will always be in my heart,” my mother uttered.
For the first time, my heart rejoiced. The heavens exulted. I was astounded, for the rain
stopped. The moon and the stars slowly appeared. Their shimmering lights descended and guided
us back to our humble home without any harm. Thanks to the heavens!
After a week, my mother died.
1. Philippines’ smallest governmental unit.
2. Equivalent to $24.
3. Stilt house covered with dried palm tree leaves.
4. Small dried fish.
5. Sweet potato.
6. Fish sauce.
7. Tagalog translation for “mother.”
8. Burial mountain inhabited by people who lived 1000 years ago.
9. Small town in Southern Luzon, Philippines.
10. Filipino lullaby titled “Ugoy ng Duyan” (In the Cradle’s Rocking), written by Levi Celerio
I wish that the past is right here before me
When I was a small child with my dearest Mother
I wish I could listen to my dear Mother’s lullaby
Her eternal love song as I lay in my cradle
11. In the silence of my very deep sleep
Watching over me are stars up above
It feels like heaven in my Mother’s arms
Heart of mine that suffers, yearns for that loving cradle