The Gumamelas at the Maharlika Orphanage

Every morning, at exactly five am, when the gardener wakes up, he looks out his window and takes a quick peek at the garden in the playground.

Once he’s sure that no stray cat or dog may have sneaked in during the night; or if the the last night’s storm hasn’t ruined any of the flowers, then he will smile and have breakfast. On the odd days that the pots or flower petals lay scattered on the ground however, he will immediately get dress-put on his old red overalls, black boots and his gray cap, and will immediately go out to fix the garden before any of the children wakes up. It should be noted, that he is highly aware of how cliché his outfit looks for a gardener, but he considers it his uniform and comfort clothes. After all, he’d been wearing the same type of clothes for the past ten years since he started working at the orphanage.

Today is the second week of March and he’s very glad to see that the garden is completely fine. In fact, the gerbera daisies that he’s been nurturing for fifteen weeks has finally started to bloom. He is very happy indeed.

Inside the humble bungalow, twenty kids started to stir and wake up at the sound of the bell ringing in the kitchen, signaling the time for breakfast. They are happy to eat but are also torn between staying in bed and having another few extra minutes of sleep. In the end, the smell of eggs and hotdogs won over them.

Slow and heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hallway leading to the dining room. Some kids still have their eyes half-closed as they walk, zombie like, following the smell of food. Others are scratching their eyes, cheek, or stomach and yawned their way to their place at the table. Ms. Barbara or as they call her, “Ate Barbie” greets them by pinching their cheeks or kissing them on top of their heads.

Finally, everybody is seated at the table. The children stared hungrily at the plates of breakfast along with their hot chocolate drinks laid in front of them. Ate Barbie looks around and focuses her eye on the small child with long black hair and wearing yellow pajamas.

“You can lead the prayer before meal, Astrid.” she says, smiling.

That woke Astrid completely. She widens her eyes before asking groggily with a small index finger pointing at herself. “Me?”

Everyone laughs. Paula, the older girl sitting next to her, confirms that she’s right. Astrid looks at ate Barbie, who gave her an encouraging nod. Astrid makes the sign of the cross and puts her hands together to lead the prayer.

“Bless us O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.” the children excitedly responded in unison.

“Alright, dig in everyone.” Ate Barbie says before she took a sip of her coffee.

Just then, Ms. Rita or as everyone fondly calls the owner and foundation of Maharlika orphanage, “Mommy Rita” walks in. The dining room instantly brightens up. The kids all greeted her with their usual high tones of “Good morning Mommy Rita!”.

“Good morning children!” Mommy Rita shouted back. “I hope everyone had a goodnight’s sleep. Remember to fix your bed later after breakfast or else there’s no ice cream later for merienda.” she adds.

Mommy Rita sits at the head of the table and ate her breakfast while she listened to their stories and laughter filling the atmosphere.

When breakfast is done, the kids pick up their plates and cups and put them in the tray near the washbasin with the assistance of Aunt Flor or Manang Flor, the cook and overall helper in the kitchen. Then they go back to their rooms to tidy up their bed. After that, they go to the restroom to wash their faces and brush their teeth.

At nine in the morning, the children are ready to go outside the playground.

“Good morning Mang Hector!” they greeted the gardener when they saw him watering the plants. The kids went straight to the flowers and giggled amongst themselves while they touch the flower petals and count the different colors they saw.

Mister Hector proudly looks on and felt satisfied that he has once again made their day. All of the children love the garden very much. They look forward to all the blooming flowers they see each time Mr. Hector plants different kinds of flowers or plants.

Even the most quiet of the bunch will smile and jump around at the sight of the white and fragrant sampaguitas, the thin leaves of bougainvilleas, the vibrant colors of gerbera daisies and the purple ground orchids. The kids never once tried to pull the stems or flowers especially without asking his permission. So Mr. Hector decided to pick some flowers himself and gives it to them once in a while to show his gratitude.

Today, he grabs a few pink, red, lavender and blue gumamelas and gave it to them.

“Thank you Mang Hector!” each kid tells him after receiving a flower.

They happily smelled it. Some put the flowers on their hair or placed them in their book, or at a small vase inside their room. Others remain gathered around him to watch him work. And as usual, they ask him questions which he always found interesting and delightful.

“What are these flowers, Mang Hector?” seven year old Oliver asks the gardener who has his back turned on him.

“Which one young man?” Mr. Hector replies facing him.

“This one that looks the same with other ones of different color.” Oliver holds up the red flower he just gave him.

“That was a great observation Oliver! yes they look the same because they are all the same type of flower.”

“I like the pink and white ones better.” four year old Penelope says. She’s holding a pink flower and twirling it around her fingers.

“I bet you do. They are very pretty like you, Penny.” Mr. Hector says. Penelope giggles by the compliment.

“They look like a sunflower.” five year old Sebastian observes.

“They look like a rainbow.” six year old Tessa says pointing at them.

“But what are they called?” Oliver asks again, looking a little impatient. Mr. Hector adjusts his cap and drops his watering can. Then he squats down and touched an orange flower.

“These children, are called gumamelas.” he explains.

“Gumamemelas?” Penelope asks.

Mr. Hector laughs and playfully tickles Penelope’s neck. and says, “It still sounds too complicated for you, sweetheart so that will do.”

“Do you know that these flowers also have meanings?” Mr. Hector says.

The children shook their head simultaneously.

“Well then, I’ll explain it to the best of my knowledge. Before, people use to give this gumamela flower to a person they think is worthy of it’s beauty. This gumamela right here symbolizes glory and fame. If you receive it, it means you are both.” Mr. Hector says.

The children nods as if they understood perfectly. Mr. Hector smiles.

“You are all too young to know what glory and fame means but I wish you all success when you grow up. I hope you will still remember me and these flowers when you leave this place one day.”

“Are you crying Mang Hector?” Tessa asks in concern.

“You can have my handkerchief.” Sebastian offers.

“Nope, something just caught my eye.” Mr. Hector smiles to reassure them. He looks up and tried to keep his tears from falling.

“I’ll remember you, Mang Hector. We will all remember you and these flowers.” Oliver says.

Mr. Hector stops and took a deep breath.

“Then there’s nothing I could ever ask for, sweetheart.” The gardener pats him on the head. He stands up and lets them play on the grass and returned to his work.

At the front porch, Ms. Barbie and Ms. Rita catches his eye and gave him a wave. Mr. Hector gives a small nod and shyly walks off.

The children’s laughter rang all around the playground and would remain there for years to come.

*

Twenty years later…

Tessa looks on the fresh gumamelas blooming this spring. Behind her, her friends are on their hands and knees in the dirt, wearing different colors of overalls and laughing while they reminisce their childhood memories in this place.

Every year during spring time, they gather back to Maharlika orphanage to help the new gardener and teach the children how to plant. They always look forward to meeting each other again and feeling that same connection you only have with those you spend your childhood with.

Penelope is running around chasing other kids while her husband, Oliver, shakes his head and digs in to plant a sampaguita on the ground.

Sebastian is watering the pots on the other side of the garden while he talks with their other friends who also grew up here.

The playground now has a new generation of kids who will continue appreciating these flowers as they pass on the story of their beloved gardener. They will also explain the stories and meanings he taught them about each kind of flowers and plants in the garden and show them how to take care of these living things- talk to them, sing to them and appreciate their beauty.

The children kept their promise and will always treasure those moments they had with Mang Hector while they are protectively surrounded by these gumamelas under the bright morning sun.