Mommy kept everything (truth be told, to this day she still does). Back then, as a child growing up in our house in Bonifacio St., Ormoc City, there was this one large white box that was a source of quiet joy for me. It once upon a time housed some present, I’m sure, and was just like any other gift box made of white karton. But in our home, it was where all the Christmas cards the family received through the years were kept in a happy jumble. I am not talking about those “To” and “From” gift cards that are attached to every wrapped present; what I refer to are the greeting cards, of the Hallmark variety, the same ones that almost always came with handwritten notes and warm thoughts, a photo or two tucked in between the folded card stock. Year after year, they piled up.