Rwandese Flowers_ 1 to 6

The religious started a lovely service that many in the village sorely accompanied. The
Twas did not understand the meaning of the excerpts from the Sermon on the Mount although the
unknown words sparked wonder among them. Despite that, worshiping Jesus Christ, they felt
something close to their heart, being quiet, just paying touching attention, and I looked back on the
teachings of Saint Augustine for whom faith does not need understanding: credo quia absurdum. While
they kept their eyes fixed on the figure of the parish priest, I wondered what was going on in the
minds of the suffering Twas. Maybe, they believed that they heard the good news, ensuring a journey
to a heaven awash with joy in a good and promising future.
And Jesus, seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain, and when he was set, his disciples came
unto him, and he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying:
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn: for they
shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they, which do hunger, and thirst
after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they shall see God.
Glory to God in the highest and to Earth peace!
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.
The preaching of Father Jumpe amid the hardship of those men was an invitation to the
sad, Christian resignation. He appeared to be a zealous collaborator of the Pygmies and helped them
to execute an unexpected, economic project, encouraging the Twas to undertake the growing of
varieties of flowers for the funeral service in Kigali.
"Let's get a look at them, Doctor."
After the short mass, he and Tharcisse Mugabe guided me to a terrain behind a ravine
where the Twas cultivated species of tropical plants.
Those flowerbeds were the most riveting site I have ever been in my entire life so far.
Their meaning exceeded a simple garden in that they contributed to supporting such underprivileged
community, and they were a sanctuary focused on the hard work of the Enlightened One. The Twas'
plantation gave off a beautiful smell. The moths flying over the blooms across the gardens reminded
me of the images of the children's tale books that my father read to me when I was a kid.
Tharcisse Mugabe and Father Jumpe explained to me that they had some varieties of
tropical blossoms, and the priest with his melodic voice of Gregorian chant said:
"We chose the tropical flowers for cutting, Dr. Isabelle, because they are perennial,
beautiful and common in funeral events in Rwanda. We deal only with blooms now, yet we may be
also selling seedlings and seeds soon to turn this little country into an immense garden."
"I can feel the holiness to which you referred earlier in your preaching. Good on you,
Father Jumpe. Magnificently done."
The religious grabbed my arm and took me with him for a walk by the planting, telling:
"Come on, Dr. Isabelle, I will make a beautiful nosegay for you in gratitude for your
devotion to the Twas."
With pruning shears in hand, he worked on collecting samples of each species of
flowers across the garden. He gathered them to form a beautiful and a multicolored floral
arrangement.
"This small red beauty is an anthurium, a worldwide, commercialized flower."
He handed me an anthurium, and I kissed its petals.
"This red and yellow splendor is the heliconia flower, this plant with leaves that look
like the banana ones. We do not know how many types of them exist in the world."
The heliconia joined the anthurium in my hand!