I think it was almost a year ago when I started reading Harriet Beecher Stowe’s “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. To those unaware, this book was said to be Rizal’s inspiration for writing “El Filibusterismo” and “Noli Me Tangere” — two well-recognized books that he wrote which stirred the much-needed patriotism and spirit of revolution during his time that won us our freedom from Spanish colonizers — freedom that we enjoy to this day.

I remember wanting to read that book of Stowe ever since I’ve heard of the significant role it played in Rizal’s life. But being deprived of both time and money, I contented myself with the promise that I would one day soon get hold of a copy for myself. It was a promise bound to be  forgotten, tucked away at the back of my mind along with all the other books I haven’t managed to finish reading due to various reasons.

So when the time came that I finally got myself a copy of that book, I recall holding it for the first time and relishing that warm feeling — like a reunion with a long lost love, a long lost dream or forgotten treasure — like finding the lucky penny I hid in a forgotten pocket when I was a teen.

Finishing the book was a daunting task — not because it wasn’t interesting but because the archaic English in which it was written proved a little too burdensome for the impatient Web 2.0 netizen that I have become. Of course, I was amazed at the kind of literary gift that Stowe possessed, but maybe, having been told all my life how good it is just because Rizal himself read it and even caused him to write books that sparked the revolution, I had impossibly high expectations prior to reading it. It is a good read, no doubt about it, but it’s no Holy Grail of revolution if you ask me.

Revisiting the pages of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” in this day and age is undoubtedly different — so much different as it has probably been if you were reading it at a time when the mere mention of the word Indio was almost synonymous with leprosy, for that was how Indios were treated — like people with a contagious, dreaded disease. The words in the book were strong and direct, dramatic and truly moving. But reading it at a time like this when the freedom we enjoy is taken for granted as if it we never knew of slavery, it is too easy to miss the point of the book, much less decipher the hidden meaning clothed in literary cloak.

But having read the book now and imagining Rizal reading the same book in this period of our history,  I have not the slightest doubt that it would evoke the very same feelings he had back then.

It’s not so much the book, as I’ve read in countless reading that makes you who you are or prompts you to do one or two things. It’s not so much the suffering you see around you. It’s not so much the “time” in history you are in. As I’ve learned and discovered over the years, it is the “man within” that makes all the difference. It is the glorious soul of a man that gets awakened and stirred  by a book, by the sight of suffering, of slavery, of helplessness that makes all the difference. It is this spirit of a man who is not so different from us all yet outshines us with his strong will and brilliant mind to boot that spells the difference between “feeling sorry” and “feeling helpful”.

Finding the strength within and taking control of one’s fate — these are the kind of thinking and resolve that Rizal represented. He saw injustice and sought justice. He saw suffering and sought relief. He saw intellectual inadequacy and sought the fountain of knowledge. He saw slavery and sought freedom.

“Seek and you shall find.” rings true now as it did then. Heroes are no different from all of us average Juans and Marias. Heroism is not a far-off idea meant only for the gods  or a mere romantic story meant for the books. Heroism is doing ordinary things in extraordinary ways (yes, the difference is just that little “extra”) triggered by love, compassion and thirst for truth and justice.

Jose Rizal is not a hero solely for his intelletual prowess. The fact that he spoke in over 20 languages fluently wouldn’t really amount to anything had he used it solely for something self-serving.

There is a hero in all of us — yes I know, too cheesy. But we can’t deny that it’s true. To be  a hero is actually everyone’s job, everyone’s destiny. The times call for heroism in all of us. The events of everyday call for small yet tangible acts of kindness, love of beauty and justice.

We are a nation of heroes. Their blood — the very same blood that ran through their veins and by which many hard-fought battles were won — still run through us. All we need is to reconnect to the hero in us and rediscover who we are.

The times may have changed. The challanges may be different now. The wars we must fight and the “colonizers” we must vanguish may have changed too, but the battles we believe to have been won long ago is re-emerging now.

Heroism beckons. Glory awaits. Unleash the hero in you and understand what it really means to be a Filipino then through the triumphs of our battles today.

Hail to you Jose Rizal, my hero! Our hero! And it is with deep pride that I write this article in the very birthplace of our National Hero — Calamba City, Laguna.