Forty Days

Mt. Mayon stood tall and proud as the sun was behind it, radiating the city of Legazpi in Albay, Philippines. Despite the presence of the biggest star, big drops of water started to fall. The smell of rain, sun, and heated ground all mixed together as the people began to get their clothes from outside, trying to save them from soaking up the rain. But in the rush of other people, there was this woman, Leonor, who did not conform to what society was rushing her to do. She just stayed there on her porch, sipping her freshly made coffee. She did not even budge, even when lightning flashed; there, she only stayed seated on her rocking chair peacefully, watching her child Cecille play outside in the rain.

A mixture of water and sand began to splash at the white linen clothes her mother sewed for her, but it did not make Leonor angry at her daughter; instead, the corners of her mouth formed an arch, making a smile. There, when the thunder roared, she stood up from her chair, patting the dust, leaves, and branches that went to her dress. There was a second of silence until she grabbed the opportunity to say the name of her daughter, but finally she did. Cecille slowly turned her head with smiles on her face and, for one last time, made a big jump to the mud, which resulted in it splashing all over her and even on her face, an act in which she was shocked and suddenly felt a strain of fear from being scolded by her mother.

Her worries disappeared when her mother burst out in laughter, making her hand shake from laughing and spilling a little bit of black coffee on her dress, staining it. She then told Cecille to be fast and go inside the house. Instructing her daughter to wait outside for a little while to get her a towel so as not to wet the floor that Leonor had cleaned and waxed. As she ushered herself inside and quickly ran to the closet to get a clean piece of towel, with fear of having her child wait from the outside and catch a fever or a cold. She almost tripped on the shiny floor she made but managed to hold on to the long wooden chair found in their living room.

Creaks of the door were heard outside, and by hearing them, Leonor rushed outside. She left it open for her child, and the wind now accompanied her child. As she arrived at the open door, there was her beloved child shivering in coldness, lips trembling, hands wrinkled. A chuckle and a smile were given to the child as Leonor started to wrap her with the towel she got. Silence then still lingered between them, and only the sound made by the friction of the skin and towel was heard. She closed the door as Cecille entered the house with her partially dry totality. Creaks of the door were once again heard; this creaking sound was a month-long problem her husband religiously forgot to repair.

As the entrance closed, the sounds of the wind and thunder from outside subsided, and only the clean and shiny floor and wooden chairs were exposed to them. The smell of freshly glided floors emanated from the inside of the house—a smell Cecille really loved. Leonor ushered the small vessel of her daughter to their bathroom to finally get her a bath to prevent colds and fever. She instructed her daughter to wait inside the bathroom, got the remaining hot water for a while and poured it into the water container to lessen the cold. Laughter and giggles were heard as the slightly warm water gushed through the skin of Cecille, splashing waters as well to her mother, in which only slight tickles on the abdomen were given back by Leonor.

As the last batch of water poured, Leonor went back to the closet to get another towel. And again, the sound of the friction between the towel and skin was heard. When Cecille was fully dried, a slight pinch to the nose was awarded, and a giggle made its way out. Leonor carried her towel-wrapped daughter in her arms, ushering her to the room to get her dressed. She then pulled out a red dress that she made for Cecille's 7th birthday; it's the first time she'll ever wear this dress. A red dress made of linen with white flower embroidery all over. Leonor has allotted a whole month to making this dress for her child.

Cecille's face then lit up from the excitement of wearing a beautiful dress like her mother was holding, and she was now sniffing, in which the smell of freshly laundered cloth made its way to her nose. She smiled at her daughter and pinched her nose once again before guiding her to wear the dress. After a while of preparing her daughter, putting talcum powder all over her body, which was too much but still done, the smell of vanilla rushed to the room as she brushed the long brown hair of her daughter with the oil she got from a local shop in Albay, saying it was good for hair, making it long and strong.