“WHEN it rains at night, I cannot fall asleep anymore.”

Estella, 13, fears that flood water may again come rushing through her house, sweeping away everything she owns and loves. In early December 2004, four storms successively hit the eastern coast of the Philippines. Giant logs swirled like battering rams on the steep mountain ranges, gushing into helpless lowland communities.

Over 2,000 people died and 1,000 more remained missing. Hardest hit was the province of Quezon. In Estella’s hometown of Nakar alone, nearly 300 perished. Estella’s best friend was one of many children who died.

“I miss her a lot,” Estella says, admitting that she cries a lot over the death of her friend. According to her parents, Estella refused to talk or play much after the flood. They were worried but did not know what to do. They too were confronting issues of survival. The farm fields now lie under tons of mud with a crust of sandy topsoil poorly suited for growing crops. Families are starving. Hence, dealing with the children’s trauma is largely not addressed.

In an emergency, children indeed are the most vulnerable. They are the most helpless against nature’s fury. Fear, pain, trauma, and the terrifying moments of destruction are forever etched in their minds. UNICEF quickly responded to the emergency and launched a rehabilitation mission in Quezon.

UNICEF worked with local government units, non-governmental organizations and local community groups to bring relief packs to families. The packs contain food, clothes, kitchen utensils, dinnerware, and farming implements. Children were also given school supplies.

Another major aim of the mission is to help children deal with the trauma. Two months after the disaster, UNICEF assisted in conducting art workshops for children in Quezon. The Southern Tagalog Kanlungan Development Center (STKDC), an NGO, organized the workshops in the most affected communities. Volunteer teachers handled creative classes like storytelling, painting, puppetry, dance and music.

At a makeshift activity center in Nakar, Estella joins 70 other children who are busy decorating paper puppets with a colorful array of markers, string, and fabric. Their other art works are on display. Amidst the lighthearted chatter, it is easy to forget the horror that struck these children and their families.

Volunteer Laarni Frial, 24, is astounded at the distinct change in the children. “They were at first timid and tentative. But they would soon warm up to the playful atmosphere.” Perhaps, nobody is more surprised than the children’s parents. “The parents would come to me, grateful that their child is participating, talking, or laughing.” Everyone agrees that they had fun during the workshops.

At the end of the day, the children stand beneath a giant tree and sing a song about who they are and what their future will be:

“We are young but together we stand strong,
the youth of today, the leaders of tomorrow.”

They raise their arms on cue and take a bow. Estella is there too, beaming at her mother who is now brimming with tears. After three days of songs, stories, skits, and colors, the children radiate with feverish excitement. Like a rainbow after a storm, this gathering becomes a sign of a more tranquil time and a safer season of life.