Filippa’s mother then remarked: “I have seen coconut oil, placed in a coconut shell, burning along a coconut wick, as a lamp, in a house built out of coconut stems and leaves, under a coconut grove; and the Filipino family were eating coconuts, and drinking coconut ‘tuba’ juice, at a table made from coconut stalks.”
“That must have been in Coconutville, when a coconut clock was striking, under a coconut moon,” laughed Fil, who sometimes was full of smart wit.
“But what I have said is exactly and solemnly true,” replied his gentle mother.
“I understand it now,” I replied, “and I see how one coconut tree would make me richer than a whole forest of poplar or oak trees at home.”
Hungry Moro remarked: “I wish that this moment I had coconut shredded over some Bebinka cakes.”
“What are Bebinka cakes?” I inquired.
“They are pancakes made from fermented corn and rice dough, mixed. Every Filipino is fond of them,” explained Filippa’s mother.
