FREEDOM WRITERS

The Boy in the Park

                          by Mags

It seemed like a normal day for me sitting in a bench with a pen and a piece of paper in my hands, trying to write a story.

As I was pushing myself to produce admirable thoughts and angles for a story, my eyes came across a boy holding a bouquet of flowers. He seemed to be waiting for someone.
      I was fascinated with the boy siting on a bench opposite mine. Just like a typical Filipino, I was intrigued with the thought of who the boy was waiting for. As he patiently waited for a girl, probably, I was also patiently waiting for something to unfold - his cute little story.
      What does it take a person to wait for someone? I thought. What makes a person worth waiting for?
      Moments passed like "uso-uso" jeepneys and to be honest I am getting bored of waiting. I am not the typical guy who waits for a long time. Usually, I always get so sick and bored of things immediately, but the boy in front of me endured the mocking time. He was still waiting. Patiently waiting.
      His hands seemed oblivious with the increasing weight of the flowers. His smile never vanished. He was unfazed with all that waiting.
      Now, I am really getting fascinated with this boy.
      Hundreds of people passed by but the boy seemed so determined to wait for that someone. His eyes focused on people entering in like sheeps jumping over the fence.

      Maybe, I was the one doing that to relieve my boredom.
      He suddenly jumped up when a couple entered the park. He watched them walk towards us until they passed us. He seemed confused and nervous now.
      Now, what boy?
      My fascination grew higher and higher.
      Who are they? Is she your lover? I said to myself.
      With pen and paper on both hands. I pretended to write domething but all I did was scribble.
      This is it. A scoop for my story.
      He approached the couple with a smile on his face.
      "Kuya, palit kag bulak, para sa imong chicks?" he asked, offering the flowers which are dreid now because of the scorching heat of the sun.
      "Unsay chicks? uyab ko man 'ni." the man replied and laughed.
      "Sige na kuya, para sa imong uyab." He smiled.
      The man bought his flowers and bid him farewell. The boy's smile became bigger and brighter. Then, he looked at me and smiled. I replied with a simple nod. Then he was back on the same bench where he was sitting.
      More and more couples entered the park and more and more couples laughed because of him. He was noy only selling them flowers but he was also giving them a reason to smile.
      This little boy is a great teacher. I thought.
      And here is my scoop for a story taught by a little flower vendor in the park - the boy with flowers in his hands:

      For most of us, love is a cliché, barely used to define pain, suffering and sacrifice. Love for most of us is a repeated thought for hugot stories etcetera. But for the boy, love is an opportunity. A chance to live and enjoy life.
      For him to see love in other people's life is a reason to keep loving - to keep striving. Love is an opportunity to survive and see what life is offering in the future. A future most of us is anxious about.
      For him, the future is his lover whom he waits patiently. He strived to live to see his lover. The flowers in his hands are his hope. His hands are his courage and the park is his highway to see what awaits him in the end. His smile is his asset to gain hope. Our love is his life.

      He walked towards me, smiling.
      "Kuya naa kay ginahulat?" He asked. "Imong uyab, no?"
      I laughed. "Naabot na dong bag-o lang." I replied.
      He looked around confused. "Basin gusto ka'g bulak 'ya para sa imong uyab."
      I smiled and nod.
      Thank you for teaching me a lesson. Here's your hope. I thought while struggling to get my coins out from my pocket.
      "Salamat 'ya!" he smiled.
      I smiled back and left the park with a cute, little story in my hands. A lesson to be exact.