The Flowers Have Bloomed: My Path Onwards Victory

“The seed that sprouted”

By: Andre Louis C. Gaviola

“Like wildflowers; you must allow yourself to grow in all the places people thought you never would.”

–E.V.

Imagine yourself atop of a frozen hill and you see the rows of flowers beyond the eye can see;
the blooming season of spring have come to give colour to the lifeless plants of winter. The ice melting
to give water to the animals that have finished hibernating and the warmth of the sun that slowly
touches your skin; you are relieved because spring has truly come. The works start here for you have to
plough the land to give life to the plants you will nurture when the end of spring comes and the coming
of summer begins as flower buds turns to flowers and they turn into fruits that will give nutrients to all.

Farm work is truly exhausting. As you see the calluses in your hands you are reminded of the
pain, the sweat, and the blood that our farmers have to go through to put food in our table. You look to
the sun as your sweat drips to the dirt and you woke up to the sound of your alarm in your comfy bed,
fully air-conditioned room, and the smell of privilege spreading through the air. You fix yourself to
prepare for a long, exhausting, boring day ahead. For you have nothing to look up to as you are just the
typical nouveau riche kid in school. Pretty useless really, you grew up into people doing everything for
you, your talent never developed and you become dependent to everyone.

The wind blows and you looked through the window and see the budding flowers is now bearing
fruits—spring has now bared its fruits. You remember the dream you have last night and examining your
hands as it piqued your interest but you see nothing except for the white, smooth, delicate hands that
have never done any work. “Pathetic” you stuttered. You are reminded of how useless, talented, and
“pathetic” you are. You look through the mirror and see the reflection of the person you want to be. You
know that within yourself if you have been given the time, the effort, the nutrients you would truly
bloomed by now but instead you were protected in the greenhouse where the fragile plants are—they
are protected, loved, and cared but how can they truly bloom if they do not experience the harshness
and cruelty of life. Fragile and delicate flowers wither when they are not adept to such cruel
environment. You, who have been in the green house your entire life, take its first step to challenge life.

You are scared but determine to change. The first step is always the scary one but why should
be alone when you have comrades to help you. You called your friends to help you transition to the life
you want. Luckily, they truly understand and will help you hone your talents to best of their capabilities.
The next step is finding where you’re good at and something that you’re truly passionate about. You
asked for the world for answers but the world did not answer. So you asked yourself and the answer
was something you always knew. It was the talent that was often overlooked but the talent that
everyone needs. It was the talent to write. The readers reading this may laugh at his talent for everyone
has that but this one is no ordinary talent like how many poets, playwrights, and writers throughout
time have used their pen as a sword and wield it to cause change. Even Dr. Jose Rizal uses his Pluma to
cause the rebellion of the people that ignited their loved for the mother land in their hearts. That is his
talent—it bloomed because someone believed in him. It is always on our inherent human nature to
believe in something even if we don’t see it and we must always believe in the people around us just
maybe that was the lacking push they needed to truly bloom.
 They say if put a seed in a barren land it will either die or propagate the land. The truth is—I am
that seed. As I was nourished and loved by others it is also my duty to do so to others. As time passed
and seasons changed the seed that was buried in the ground has truly bloomed and now ready to
spread its seeds to the land nearby and after that just like flowers, it withers but the seeds it planted will
grow into flowers and cycle goes on and on until the barren land is full of bright colourful flowers where
pollinators would gather. Looking back if my friends did not help me I would not be the person I am
today and I could truly say I have bloomed.
Imagine yourself atop a snowy hill, and you see the rows of flowers beyond the eye can see; the
blooming season of spring has come to give life to the dead plants of winter. The ice melting provides
water to the animals that have finished hibernating and the sun's warmth that slowly touches your skin;
you are relieved because spring has indeed come. The works start here, for you have to plow the land to
give life to the plants you will nurture when the end of spring comes, and the coming of summer begins
as flower buds turn to flowers and they turn into fruits that will give nutrients to all.

Farm work is genuinely exhausting. As you see the calluses in your hands, you are reminded of the
despair, endeavor, and labor that our farmers have to go through to put food on our table. You look to
the sun as your sweat drips to the dirt, and you wake up to the sound of your alarm in your comfy bed,
fully air-conditioned room, and the smell of privilege fanning through the air. You equip yourself to
prepare for a lengthy, exhausting, monotonous day ahead. For you have nothing to look up to as you are
just the typical nouveau riche kid in school. Pretty worthless really, you grew up into people doing
everything for you, your talent never materialized, and you become dependent on everyone.

The breeze blows, and you glance through the window and witness the budding flowers are now bearing
fruits—spring has now bared its fruits. You recall the dream you had last night and scrutinizing your
hands as it piqued your curiousness, but you notice nothing except for the white, smooth, delicate
hands that have never accomplished any work. "Pathetic," you stuttered. You are reminded of how
useless, talented, and "pathetic" you are. You peek through the mirror and see the reflection of the
person you want to be. You know that within yourself if you have been granted the time, the effort, and
the patience, you would have truly bloomed by now. Still, instead, you were protected in the
greenhouse where the fragile flowers are—they are protected, loved, and cared but how can they truly
bloom if they do not experience the harshness and cruelty of life. Fragile and delicate flowers wither
when they are not adept in harsh environments. You, who have been in the greenhouse your entire life,
take its first step to challenge life.

You are scared but determined to change. The first step is always scary, but why should you be alone
when you have comrades to aid you. You contacted your friends to support your transition to the life
you want. Luckily, they truly understand and will help you hone your talents to the best of their
capabilities. The next step is finding where you're good at and something that you're genuinely
passionate about. You asked the world for answers, but the world did not answer. So you asked
yourself, and the response was something you always knew. It was the talent that was often overlooked
but the talent that everyone needs. It was the talent to write. The readers reading this may laugh at his
talent, for everyone has that, but this one is no ordinary talent like how many poets, playwrights, and
writers throughout time have used their pen as a sword and wielded it to cause change. Even Dr. Jose
Rizal used his pluma to spark change that ignited their unending love for the motherland inside their
hearts. That is his talent—it bloomed because someone believed in him. It is always in our inherent
human nature to believe in something even if we don't see it, and we must always believe in the people
around us, just maybe that was the lacking push they needed to truly bloom.

They say that putting a seed in a barren land will either die or propagate the land. The truth is—I am
that seed. As I was nourished and loved by others, I also must do so to others. As time passed and
seasons changed, the seed buried in the ground has truly bloomed and is now ready to spread its seeds
to the nearby land. After that, just like flowers, it withers, but the seeds it planted will grow into flowers,
and the cycle goes on and on until the barren land is full of bright, colorful flowers where pollinators
would gather

and looking back, if my friends did not help me, I would not be the person I am today, and I could truly
say I have bloomed.