i am not romanticizing a life of poverty, nor do i dream of living one. i simply long for a life that is neither too rich nor too poor. but by the warmth that fills a home, the love that asks for nothing in return, the care found even in ordinary days, and the humility that keeps people grounded. hindi man ganon kayaman, pero ang bawat pagod, bawat sakripisyo, at bawat araw na inilalaban para lamang may maihain sa hapag at may maibigay sa pamilya ay sapat nang kayamanan. because to me, wealth has never been measured by the size of a house or the amount of money someone owns, but by the kind of home that makes you feel safe enough to come back to. if love alone were the measure of being rich, then perhaps some of the simplest homes would be overflowing with more wealth than the grandest mansions. there is something irreplaceable about the quiet tenderness of a parent checking if you've eaten, the warmth of a hand that comforts you without saying a word, or the small sacrifices they make without ever asking for recognition. those moments seem ordinary while they're happening, yet they become the most extraordinary memories once time has passed. and when the people who gave you that love are no longer beside you, it doesn't disappear with them. it lingers in the way you speak, the way you care for others, the way you continue to love despite everything. because the gentlest kind of love never truly leaves—it quietly becomes a part of who you are.