
In a world that often tells us to take more, keep more, and want more, there’s a quiet kind of power in learning how to give.
I’ve met people in our communities, like Aling Cora, who runs a sari-sari store in Talon Singko. Though a widow living alone, she shares whatever she has with her grandchildren and neighbors. She doesn’t make much, but what she has, she gives. When I once asked her why, she smiled and said, “Para sa Diyos. Para makatulog ako nang mahimbing at bigyan Niya pa ako ng masaya at mahabang buhay.” (For God. So I can sleep in peace and He may bless me with a long and joyful life.)
That’s when I realized — generosity is not just kindness, it’s freedom.
The great poet Kahlil Gibran once wrote, “You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care… but rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound.”
Real freedom, he reminds us, isn’t about having no burdens. It’s about rising above them. When we give, especially when it costs us something, we declare to the world: I am not ruled by what I own. I am ruled by what I believe in.
Two weeks ago, a heartbreaking tragedy struck our city. A one-year-old baby, Thania de los Reyes, was swept away by rushing floodwaters in Barangay Talon Tres as her family attempted to evacuate with over 80 others during a flash flood. She had slipped from her father’s arms.
As a newly elected public servant, this was my baptism by fire. Just days after taking office, this was our first real test at the Alelee Aguilar Action Center. We had no protocols, no past operations to draw from. But we had compassion, and that was enough.
I immediately deployed our team to bring aid to the evacuees, especially to Thania’s grieving family. What followed wasn’t just relief work, it was grace in motion.
There was a unique kind of fulfillment etched in my team’s faces. And the grateful smiles, the tears, the tightly-held hands of those we helped, those were our quiet victories. In the middle of disaster, what emerged wasn’t despair but dignity. Hope. Resilience.
This experience moved us. It stirred something inside that will keep us going. We realized that generosity, when done in service of love, is liberating. It frees us from the weight of “mine” and invites us to live for “ours.”
As it is written in the New Testament: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” — Acts 20:35
In every act of giving, whether it’s rice, water, a warm embrace, or simply an ear — we push back against the grip of greed. We allow love to flow through us. We rise a little higher above the weight of the world.
So let us give, not because we have an excess, but because we know what matters most can never be bought.
Because the most generous heart is also the most free.
Speaking of a truly generous heart in public service, I’d like to share a personal example, someone I deeply admire — my sister, Mayor April Aguilar. Her tireless visits to the most vulnerable in our communities move and inspire me in ways I could never fully express. Her acts of service and compassion remind me that generosity, when done with sincerity, is the highest form of leadership. She is my inspiration.