Chapter 4: Rizal’s Life: Childhood and Early Education
The Birth of Rizal
Jose P. Rizal, the 7th child of the Rizal family, was born on June 19, 1861, Wednesday, between
11:00 and 12:00 midnight in the town of Calamba, province of Laguna, Philippines. His mother
almost died during her delivery because Jose’s head was big. As he recounted in his student
memoirs:
“My coming out in this vale of tears would have cost my mother her life,
had a she not vowed to the Virgin of Antipolo to take me to her sanctuary
by way of pilgrimage”.
He was baptized in the Catholic Church in Calamba on June 22, 1861 by the parish priest,
Father Rufino Collantes. His godfather was Father Pedro Casafias, a close friend of the Rizal
family. Father Collantes was impressed by the big head of baby Jose. He told them “Take
good care of this child, for someday he will become a great man”. The name “Jose” was
chosen by his mother in honor of San Jose (St. Joseph) whose feast was March 19.
His complete name was JOSE PROTACIO MERCADO RIZAL ALONZO Y REALONDA. The name
Protacio was taken from the Catholic calendar which was a practice during the Spanish time,
that when a child is born, he/she is named after the saint of the day. The surname Mercado
which means market in English was adopted in 1731 by his paternal great-grandfather,
Domingo Lamco, a full-blooded Chinese merchant.
Added surname Rizal was given by Don Francisco which is closer to the Spanish word Racial
which means “luntiang bukirin” related to his work as hacienda owner /farmer. Alonzo was
the surname of Rizal’s mother and Realonda was used by Dona Teodora which is the surname
of her godmother.
Jose Rizal’s Childhood Years
Jose Rizal, as a young boy had beautiful, fruitful and pleasant memories as well as sorrow. He
grew up in a happy home. He could remember the tenderest care of his parents because he
was frail, sickly and undersized boy. His father built a nipa hut in the garden for him to play in
the daytime. At the age of three (3), he enjoyed watching in the garden the insects, the
maya; culiawan, maria capra, pipit, the martin and other birds. He listened “with excitement
and wonder” to their twilight songs and sounds.
Another childhood memory was the daily praying of Angelus of 6:00pm in their altar as all of
them gathered for prayers.
At the “azotea” on a moonlit night, the aya (nursemaid) would tell stories about fairies,
legends, tales of buried treasures, and other fabulous stories. Sometimes if he did not like to
eat his supper, the Aya would threaten him that asuwang, tikbalang, nuno or the turbaned
Bombay will come to take him away.
He is brought for a walk for the relief-giving breeze, to see the fruit bearing trees, flowers, birds.
The scenic beauty of his hometown Calamba, the legendary Mt. Makiling and the distant
Antipolo with the shrine of the miraculous Lady of Peace and Good Voyage.
At the age of three (3), he began to join religious processions, novena in the church and at
the age of five (5), he was able to read the Spanish Bible with the help of his mother. When
Rizal was nearly 7 years old (June 6, 1868), his father took him for a pilgrimage to Antipolo in
order to fulfill his mother’s vows which was made when Jose was born. Dona Teodora could
not accompany them because he had given birth to Trinidad. It was the first trip of Rizal across
Laguna de Bay and his first pilgrimage to Antipolo.
After praying at the shrine of the Virgin of Antipolo, they went to Manila, to Visit his sister
Saturnina at the La Concordia College in Santa Ana.
The Hero’s First Sorrow
The Rizal children were bound together by the ties of love and care. Jose loved most his little
sister Concha (Concepcion) who was next to him. Unfortunately, Concha died at the age of
three and for the first time he shed tears for love and grief, which is said to be his first sorrow.
The Story of the Moth
Of all the stories told by Dona Teodora to Jose, the story of the moth made the profoundest
imprint on him which he recalled after some years...
“My Mother was teaching me how to read in Spanish “The Children’s Friends (El Amigo de
Los Niños). This was a rare book and old copy. This night, my mother became impatient with
hearing me read so poorly. I did not understand Spanish and so I could not read with
expression. She took the book and read it to me but I was watching the flame with some little
moths circling around the flame. Soon as my mother noticed that I was not interested. She
stopped and said to me, “I am going to read to you a very pretty story. I once opened my
eyes on hearing the word story. She told me “The Story of the Moth”.
Once upon a time, an old moth had warned her daughter against the flame,
so beautiful, so inviting, yet fatal and deceitful for it destroyed whoever came
too close. She herself said, she was once tempted by it; she had barely escaped
with half-burnt wings. The frightened young moth promised to obey, but was
soon asking herself: “now why should my mother try to give me such a scare?
Why should I close my eyes to such a pretty sight? These old people are such
cowards! They think every fly is an elephant, any old dwarf a giant. What harm
can it do ‘to me, whatever she says, if I come near the flame, as long as I am
careful? What 1am, a little silly? What a story I shall have for all other girls if I,
being very careful of course, take a closer look. “No sooner said that done, and
the silly little moth went fluttering around the flame. At first, she only felt
pleasantly warm; this encouraged her and she flew closer and closer until at
last, dazzled by flame, fell and perished in it.
As she put me to bed, my mother said: “See to it that you do not behave like
the young moth. Don’t be disobedient, or you may get burned as it did. “I do
not know whether I answered or not....
The story revealed to me the things until then unknown. Moths no longer were, for me,
insignificant insects. Moths talked, they knew how to warn. They advised just like my mother.
The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more dazzling and more attractive. 1
knew why the moths circled the flame. The tragic fate of the young moth left a deep impact
on Rizal’s mind, and like that young moth he was fated to die as a martyr for a noble ideal.
Rizal’s Mentors
Doña Teodora, Rizal’s mother was his first teacher. Barely three (3) years old, Rizal learned the
alphabet from his mother. He was taught how to read and write in Spanish. As he grew older,
his parents employed private tutors to give him lessons at home. The first was Maestro
Celestino and the second, Maestro Lucas Padua. Later, and old man named Leon Monroy,
a former classmate of Rizal’s father, became the boy’s tutor. This old teacher lived at the Rizal
home and instructed Jose in Spanish and Latin. Unfortunately, he did not live long. He died
five months later.
After Monroy’s death, the hero’s parents decided to send their gifted son toa private school
in Biñan.
At about this time, two of his mother’s cousin frequented Calamba. Uncle Manuel Alberto,
seeing Rizal frail in body, concerned himself with the physical development of his young
nephew and taught the latter love for the open air and developed in him a great admiration
for the beauty of nature, while Uncle Gregorio, a scholar, instilled into the mind of the boy
love for education. He advised Rizal: “Work hard and perform every task very carefully; learn
to be swift as well as thorough; be independent in thinking and make visual pictures of
everything.”
Rizal possessed a God-given talent for literature. His mother who was a lover of literature
noticed his poetic inclination, hence, she encouraged him to write poetry.
Since childhood, Rizal showed an unusual talent in art and literature. He scribbled verses on
loose sheets of paper and on the textbooks of his sisters. His mother, who was a lover of
literature, noticed his son’s inclination and gift for writing poetry. At the age of ‘eight years
old, Rizal wrote his first poem in the native language entitled; “Sa Aking Mga Kabata — To My
Fellow Children”
To My Fellow Children
(Sa Aking Mga Kabata)
Whenever people of a country truly love
The language which by heav‘n they were taught to use
That country also surely liberty pursue
As does the bird which soars to freer space above
For Language is the final judge and referee
Upon the people in the land where it holds sway;
In truth our human race resembles in this way
The other living beings born in liberty,
Whoever knows not how to love his native tongue
Is worse than any beast or evil smelling fish.
To make our language richer ought to be our wish
The same as any mother loves to feed her young.
Tagalog and the Latin language are the same
And English and Castillian and the angels’ tongue;
And God, whose watchful care o’er all is flung,
Has given us His blessing in speech we claim,
Our mother tongue, like all the highest that we know
Had alphabet and letters of its very own;
But these were lost — by furious waves were overthrown
Like bancas in the stormy sea, long years ago.
“Sa Aking Mga Kabata”
(To My Fellow Children)
Kapagka ang baya’y sddyang umiibig
Sa kanyang salitang kaloob ng langit,
Sanglang kalayaan nasa ring masapit
Katulad ng ibong nasa himpapawid.
Pagka’t ang salita’y isang kahatulan
Sa bayan, sa nayo’t mga kaharian,
At ang isang tao’y katulad, kabagay
Ng alin mang likha noong kalayaan.
Ang hindi magmahal sa kanyang salita
Mahigit sa hayop at malansang isda,
Kaya ang marapat pagyamaning kusa
Na tulad sa indéng tunay na nagpala.
Ang wikang Tagalog tulad din sa Latin
Sa Inglés, Kastila at salitang anghel,
Sapagka’t ang Poong maalam tumingin
Ang siyang naggawad, nagbigay sa atin.
Ang salita nati’y huwad din sa iba
Na may alfabeto at sariling letra,
Na kaya nawala’y dinatnan ng sigwa
Ang lunday sa lawa noéng dakong una.
This poem reveals Rizal’s earliest nationalist sentiment. In poetic verses, he proudly proclaimed
that a people who truly love their native language will surely strive for liberty like “the bird
which soars to freer space above” and that Tagalog is the equal of Latin, English, Spanish,
and any other language.
Father Leoncio Lopez, the old and learned parish priest of Calamba fostered Rizal’s love for
scholarship and intellectual honesty.
At an early age, Rizal was already exposed to the injustices and brutalities of Spanish authority
in the Philippines particularly the Guardia Civil who were supposed to protect the people
from harm. Rizal wondered why these abuses were happening especially to the poor. Years
later, he related:
I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake,
Laguna de Bay. I was dreaming of what might be over on the other side of
the waves. Almost every day, in our town, we saw the Guardia Civil lieutenant
injuring some unarmed and inoffensive villagers. The villagers only fault was
that while at a distance he had not taken off his hat and made his bow. The
alcalde treated the poor villagers in the same way whenever he visited us.
We saw no restraint put upon brutality. Acts of violence and other excess
were committed daily. . . I asked myself if, in the lands which lay across the
lake, the people lived in this same way. I wondered if there, they tortured any
countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Or ever yonder
also, in order to live in peace, would one have to bribe tyrants?
Rizal, young as he was, grieved deeply over the unhappy situations of his beloved fatherland.
The Spanish misdeeds awakened in his boyish heart a great determination to fight tyranny.
Jose Rizal loved his sisters that he usually wrote letters to them while in the Philippines and
foreign countries. He emphasized his ideas about women and their righteous place in the
society. He also compared the Filipina to European women as to their dignity. One of his
letters before he left the Philippines for Cuba in 1896 stated thus:
To My Sisters,
“I urge you take care, serve and love our parents as you would like your children
later to take care of you, serve and love you in your old age. May you live
united, forgive one another's asperities and slight--faults, the natural thorns of life
because it is a displeasure for parents to see that their children are not living in
harmony. Afterwards, when our parents are dead, we shall miss them greatly
and we shall be sorry for not having served them while they lived.
I give my brother-in-law very many thanks for the friendship they have always
accorded me; they have loved me as a brother; I could not help but love them
likewise.
May my nephews and nieces study, be good, obedient to their parents,
grandparents and aunts.
May my boys continue behaving well... I shall know how to take care of them if
I return. God will dispose of that. They have lost nothing: itis always good to have
behaved well.
Yours,
RIZAL