Every day, before sunrise, the sound of Mang Rodel’s old cart can be heard in the alleys. He is the town’s garbage collector, thin, dirty, always sweaty, and smells like a pile of garbage. Since he was a child, he used to eat garbage, and as he grew older, that became his occupation. Many people stay away when he comes; some openly mock him.
“Mang Rodel, you smell like a garbage dump again!” shouted a child.
“Look, king of garbage!” added another.
But he does not give up. Always smiling, always quiet. What many do not know is that with each round he goes around, he does not only collect garbage. He puts away broken toys and repairs them to give to children. Old books, he cleans and gives to children who want to study. And things that others think are no longer useful, he gives a new life to.
One night, the strongest storm in twenty years came. The wind was like a monster, and the rain was like an ocean falling from the sky. The river that had been quiet before was raging, rushing and breaking loose. The entire town was drowned in the rapidly overflowing water.
People ran, screaming, and there was chaos. Some were trapped on the roof, others were trapped in their homes. Rescue vehicles could not get in because the road was broken. In the middle of the chaos, Mang Rodel arrived.
He was pulling his old cart — but it was no longer just a cart. He had been patching it up for a long time using drums, styrofoam, and boards that others had previously thrown away. He had made the cart look like a boat, although no one knew, because everyone thought he was crazy for storing “useless things.”
As the strong current beat down, he shouted:
“Children, mothers, elders! Come on, get on board here!”
One by one, people approached, trembling with fear. At first they hesitated, but when they saw that the children who were first put on board were safe, they began to trust.
He kept going back through the flood. He pulled the cart, even though the water almost swept him away. Each time he went back, he almost lost his breath. Once, he almost got hit by a falling piece of metal, but he pushed a child away, hitting himself in the arm. He bled, but he kept going.
“There is no one else to save us but Mang Rodel!” shouted a tearful mother, as she handed her baby to him.
When he had saved the last group of people, he himself was the last one left in the middle of the rushing water. Shaking, wounded, and almost giving up. But the men of the town came and pulled him to safety.
After the storm, everyone wondered: how did the entire town survive? The answer was the same: because of the garbage collector they used to mock.
The next day, the entire town gathered in the plaza. Their mayor stood on the stage and said:
“Countrymen, we once called Mang Rodel the King of Trash. But tonight, he showed that he is the King of Courage and Goodness. Without him, we would not be here today.”
Mang Rodel stood, silent, smiling but tearful. The children who used to tease him hugged him tightly. The elders bowed, thanked him, and apologized.
They erected in the middle of the plaza the old cart that he had used as a boat. But not as a memory of the garbage — but as a symbol of hope. And Mang Rodel, who used to be just a joke and a joke, became a legend in their town.
Sometimes, the person you think is the lowest turns out to be the highest in times of need. And sometimes, the thing you call trash — he or she will be the reason for your salvation.