Sunday morning. The streets of Marikina Heights were peaceful. Lolo Delfin was happily pedaling his old mountain bike, wearing a faded jersey, simple shorts, and a weathered helmet. At seventy years old, this was his way of staying strong and active.
Suddenly… VROOOOM! A yellow Mustang came screaming down the road, abruptly cutting into the bike lane. SCREECH! To avoid a collision, Lolo Delfin was forced to swerve right, crashing into the gutter. As ill luck would have it, his handlebar caught on the sports car’s shiny bumper, leaving a long, deep scratch.
The car halted. A man in his mid-twenties named Jiggs stepped out—clad in designer clothes and shades, looking like a spoiled heir.
“Are you stupid?!” Jiggs screamed. “Are you blind?! Look what you did to my car!” Lolo Delfin slowly stood up, wiping mud from his knees. “Son, you entered the bike lane. You almost hit me.” “Oh, so you’re acting tough now?!” Jiggs approached and poked a finger at the old man’s chest. “Do you know this paint job is worth more than your life? Pay up! Give me your ID!” “I don’t have my wallet, son. I’m just out for exercise,” Lolo Delfin replied calmly.
Boiling with rage, Jiggs lost control. PAK! He landed a heavy punch on Lolo Delfin’s face. The old man’s lip bled as he fell back onto the pavement. “You worthless old man!” Jiggs spat. “Beggar! You’re just an obstacle on the road!”
Bystanders watched, wanting to help but intimidated by Jiggs’ influential aura. “Call the police!” Jiggs shouted. “I’ll throw this old man in jail! You’ll never see the light of day again!”
Soon, two police patrol cars arrived. Four officers armed with high-caliber rifles stepped out. Jiggs smirked. “Good. You’re in trouble now.” He rushed to the officers. “Officer! Arrest this man! He scratched my car and attacked me! I’m calling my lawyer!”
But the police ignored him. Major Santos, the Team Leader, walked straight past Jiggs. They headed directly to Lolo Delfin, who was wiping blood from his lip. The officers froze as they recognized the man’s face…
Suddenly, they stopped in unison, boots clicking together as they snapped to attention. SALUTE! All four officers saluted with profound respect. “GOOD MORNING, GENERAL!” Major Santos barked. “Sir! Are you okay, Sir? What happened?”
Jiggs stood frozen. It felt as if the world had stopped spinning. “G-General?” Jiggs whispered. He turned deathly pale; his knees began to shake.
Lolo Delfin stood up slowly and signaled them to lower their hands. “At ease, Major,” he said in a commanding baritone. The “pitiful old man” was gone. Standing before them was General Delfin Borja, the former Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces, known as one of the bravest military officials before his retirement.
“Major… do you know him?” Jiggs asked, trembling. Major Santos turned to Jiggs with pure rage. “You don’t know who you punched? This is General Borja. He fought in Mindanao and defended this country while you were enjoying your air-conditioning! He’s the one who built the very station we are assigned to!”
Jiggs nearly fainted. He approached the General, about to kneel. “S-Sir… General… I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I thought you were just an ordinary…” “You thought I was just an ordinary person, so that gave you the right to be disrespectful?” Lolo Delfin interrupted.
The General leaned in close. Jiggs could smell the scent of his own fear. “Son,” the General said seriously. “Whether you are facing a garbage collector or a General, the respect should be the same. Arrogance can be bought with money, but class isn’t in the brand of your car. It’s in your character.”
General Borja turned to Major Santos. “Major, I don’t want special treatment. But I want the law to be upheld. File charges: Reckless driving, Physical Injury, and Assault to a Person in Authority.” “Yes, Sir!” the Major replied.
Jiggs was handcuffed in front of the crowd. His prized Mustang was searched and impounded. As he was led to the police car in tears, Lolo Delfin got back on his old bike. “Sir, let us give you a ride,” the officers offered. “No need,” the General smiled. “Don’t waste the government’s gas. I can still manage. I’ll just be more careful of the ‘kings of the road.’”
General Delfin pedaled away, leaving everyone with a sense of respect that reached the heavens.