She kept scanning the crowd. If she had one virtue, it was patience. Manang Bolabola had the patience of a hunter...
The doll maker sensed the little girl. Alone. A street urchin. One of seven kids. Blood ties broken. Hurting, hurting, hurting...
Manang Bolabola licked her lips. Yes. This one was ripe for the picking.
With a wave of her hand, she beckoned the little girl to come over. Obediently, the child approached.
"What is it, lola?"
The doll maker smiled toothlessly, whispered in the girl's ear, and drew back the curtains covering the shop's entrance.
The girl stepped inside.
And here's the corresponding Filipino translation by Augie Rivera...
Namataan ng manlilikha ng manyika ang batang babae. Nag-iisa. Laking- kalsada. Isa sa pitong magkakapatid. Nawalay sa pamilya. May mga pasakit na pasan-pasan.
Natakam si Manang Bolabola. Tama. Puwede nang pitasin ang isang ito.
Sa kumpas ng kaniyang kamay, tinawag niya ang batang babae na dali-dali namang lumapit.
‘Ano po ‘yon, lola?’
Pumasok sa loob ang bata.
* Photo from Pinoy Travel Blog.