The magic and mystery of flowers
Tuesday morning, July 26, 2011 will stay in our memory for a very long time. Perhaps it will even take on mythical proportions and be turned into a legend of how a lady by the name of Josephine — true to form, according to Fr. Manny Domingo of the Relician Order of Don Bosco — “even in her final moments could still be so poised, so prim, so proper… so vintage JCR!”
Fr. Domingo has this to add: “In a place so hallowed — that is why it’s called a sanctuary, meaning “holy under the gaze of the saints” — Anthony, Therese, Francis and Clare, while recalling happy moments with her brother Pete, with voices chanting prayers, offered for her in the arms of her beloved brother Peping, Josephine gave us her valedictory address. It was truly her valedictory in the fullest meaning of the word, her goodbye; what a blessed way to go; so JCR!”
Choose to believe it or not, Ambassador Howard Dee left the church before the eulogy. Standing and waiting for his vehicle, he saw Ate dressed in white and thought, “Josephine didn’t wait for the eulogy either…” Today I went to San Anthony Church to pray and I couldn’t help but feel the rush of fear, compassion, affection and pity just staring at the altar and podium of this sacred church. Not once, but twice in the last two weeks thousands of white roses, tulips, sampaguitas and hundreds of colored roses — fuchsia, red and orange — surrounded us. Flowers always soothe hearts, especially if you plant them yourself and watch them bloom. Just think: you’re an instrument of God’s creation! Memories surround me — of a single rose in my hair — and the flowers were mostly from my cadets in the Academy.
The smallest white wild flowers with bright yellow centers grow abundantly amid stones in Mai’s garden. I picked one and put it inside a 1940s locket after placing it under the sun to rid it of any spirits. It was among an old Iraqi’s dust-filled gallery and antiquities. Originally that glass locket exposed a strand of blond hair and the same kind of little flower that I like. On the reverse side was a photograph of a soldier in his uniform. It haunted me as I imagined a woman wore it on her necklace and felt her pangs of loneliness. So I buried all three under a tree and said an “Our Father.” The gallery owner eventually became Andrea and Mai’s framer. During a delivery he asked Mai if I was her elder sister (wow!) and would I return to his store because he’d like to see me again, being a widower! Mai said, “She will. I will bring her often if you give my husband a discount.” See what a locket with a flower can do? Sell you out!
While I’m on the sentimental side, I apologize to Enrique “Henry” Cojuangco, congressman of the First District of Tarlac, for omitting his name from last week’s family column. Also, “Antonio” should have been “Ramon.” Sorry for any confusion. Complying with a column surrounded by nieces doing their homework, boys toying with computers and grandchildren running around is heaven to me. Yet having 79 of them at the same time is a typhoon.
Flowers have spirits that leave them when they die. Some have magical properties like the water lily, the bane of Cotabato City, that caused floods and residents to flee from their homes. Virgins or nymphea, as the Greeks refer to them: Philippine Marines showed them towards the Rio Grande but these lilies remained immovable, static and strong. Perhaps that’s why they are enshrined in ancient tombs and monuments in Egypt; or could it be because of their sedative powers to cure the emotion and mend broken hearts? Though not in Maguindanao!
Daisies, in Latin, are called bellum meaning war, because they were used to cure wounds of soldiers in the battlefield. In the Christian legend daisies were the tears of Mary. I’ve used the daisy as a love oracle. The petals taken off one by one, reciting “he loves me, he loves me not.” By the way, the juices from daisies are expectorants and possess purgative effects. They help heal inflamed swellings and burns. That’s where the soldiers come in.
I have my share of pleasant memories with daisies. When the graduation day of PNPA Class 2007 was approaching I brought Cadets Lorenzo, Panganiban, Jopia and Palmon to dinner. Literally behind my back, the boys asked the waitress to buy daisies to give me. I dried these treasures and kept them in my cabinet of memories.
Another beautiful and mystical bloom is the sunflower, commonly found in any field even along the road from Batangas to Quezon. Sunflowers made their appearance in Europe in 1562, in Madrid, from seeds believed to be imported from Peru and Mexico. The King God of the Incas had a solid gold sunflower as his symbol. In fact, the Incas believed the sunflower had magical properties because of its geometrical perfection. It certainly worked for both Andrea and Mai-Mai. Andrea gave Mai 200 daisies flown in from Hong Kong during their courtship days and she fell for him. If you have doubts that you can succeed in your endeavor and there seems to be a voice inside which repeatedly says, “I will never make it,” you may not really go very far. In this case, try some sunflower magic. I quote Marina Medici: “If you can, wait for a south wind to raise. Prepare yourself for magic and call the powers. You will have a few dry petals of the sunflower ready (if you can have a fresh flower, so much the better). Call the power fire and throw the petals into the fire. As they burn, with your imagination, see the flames start at your toes and work their way up through your legs to your belly and chest. Feel how they are warming your body up and, by freeing it from fear; they are releasing strength and determination. The flames rise through to your head, and leave from the top of your head. They leave your mind clear and set. You will know how to face the task at hand, taking one thing at a time, without letting your mind wander on the possible downfalls.”
Dreaming of jasmine is supposed to portend good fortune, especially in love. My grandmother planted Jasmine whose fragile little white flower I placed in my underwear. Even in its smallness and prettiness my handkerchiefs smelled so sweet. Young as I was, it put me in touch with my femininity.
Everyone loves roses. King Sargon I, back in 2684 B.C. talked about “trees of roses” which he brought back from an expedition from the river Tauro. Their colors hold significance. A red rose is for passionate affairs, a yellow one for tender ones (and sometimes jealousies), a pink one for romance and a white one for pure love.
For eight years I owned a baro’t saya with the daintiest colors of pastel flowers and the scariest story attached to it. Mang Eddie of Banahaw came by the house after I sent him an S.O.S. He had with him a skinny old lady to light incense and bless my house. Entering my closet the old lady cringed upon seeing my baro’t saya. Refusing to touch it, Mang Eddie held it from its hanger. By coincidence a week later a police student with E.S.P. visited my house since I needed help. I had the baro’t saya brought to me. As the guard held it she hid behind the colonel, trembled and refused to touch the gown. We threw the gown into the drum and burned my Filipiniana dress instantly. “Binahayan,” daw.
Do you recall Our Lady of Guadalupe? She asked Juan Diego to gather flowers at the top of Tepeyac Hill in that frozen, barren hilltop where no plant ever grew. Yet he discovered a variety of flowers including beautiful Castilian roses, which had not yet been introduced in Europe at that time. The Blessed Virgin arranged them herself in Juan’s tilma. In the presence of the Bishop Zumarraga, Juan flung open his cloak to let the heaven-sent bouquet of fragrant flowers cascade to the floor and the Bishop came to kneel before him. It was only then that Juan Diego looked down and saw the exact image of the Lady of Guadalupe as she appeared on Tepeyac Hill in bright colors on his tilma.
Flowers are truly mystical and magical. I am sure many of us witnessed how people, from all walks of life, came to distribute flowers to government soldiers in battle gear and successfully persuaded them not to fire a single shot during People Power Revolution in 1986. Flowers can speak a million words; the soldiers, who were ready to crush the demonstration at EDSA, disobeyed military orders from the top and decided to side with the people in that historic moment.
Flowers give life to the weak and a dozen sprouts of flowers could give life to a hectare of barren land.
