

There is a Filipino saying that goes, “Ang ina ay ang ilaw ng tahanan.” We hear this phrase time and again, in classrooms and in workplaces, in quiet conversations at home and public speeches whenever we speak of the sacrifices of mothers.
Beyond the poetry of those words lies a deeper truth: women are not only the light of the home, they are often the quiet strength that sustains entire communities.
This Women’s Month, a thought stayed with me after I addressed a group of women during a flag ceremony in Las Piñas City. As I looked out into the crowd, I realized that what bound them together was not just the shared space, but a shared purpose. Many of them were mothers, yes, but more than that, they were caretakers of something larger than themselves.
In speaking with them, I met Jenny, a woman whose generosity seemed to stretch far beyond the limits of time. She spends her days organizing livelihood trainings for her fellow women, teaching skills like cake making and clothes repair. But what struck me most was what she does after the workshops end. She follows up. She checks in. She listens. Long after official hours, Jenny makes sure that no woman is left behind. In her quiet persistence, I saw a kind of love that asks for nothing in return.
Her story reminded me that generosity is not always grand. Sometimes, it is as simple as showing up again and again.
I have seen this same spirit in other women. A mother who sets aside a portion of her modest income each week to help a neighbor send her child to school. A group of volunteers who prepare meals for street children, not just during the holidays, but on ordinary days when no one is watching. A young professional who spends weekends teaching basic reading skills in her barangay, believing that education is the first act of kindness we can offer the next generation.
And, of course, I think of my own mother. For decades, she had served our city as both mayor and vice mayor. Yet what defined her leadership was not position, but compassion. I witnessed how she extended social services to the poorest sectors, stretching the city’s resources as far as they will go, guided always by a simple belief: that no one should be left unseen or unheard. Her love for her daughters has always mirrored her love for her constituents: steady, patient and unconditional.
In all these women, I see the same thread: a generosity that flows not from abundance, but from the heart.
The Bible reminds us in Proverbs 31:20, “She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.” This verse captures what I witnessed that morning in Las Piñas, not just acts of service, but lives devoted to lifting others up.
The women who matter are not always the loudest or the most visible. They are the ones who give quietly, love deeply, and serve faithfully. In their hands, cities are nurtured, families are strengthened, and hope is made tangible.
And in their example, we are reminded that true generosity is not measured by how much we give, but by how much of ourselves we are willing to share.