BIENAN KO BIGYAN NG ₱20,000/BUWAN PARA SA “PANGGASTOS” – PERO NANG UMUWI AKO SA AMIN, NADISKUBRE KO ANG KATOTOHANANG NAGPATIGIL SA AKIN…My name is Maribel, 27 years old, married for almost two years. My husband – Rafael – is the only son of a well-off family in Quezon City. Before getting married, I used to worry about mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, because everyone said: “Ang panganay na manugang sa mayamang pamilya, madalas mahirap ang buhay.” But in complete contrast, my mother-in-law – Doña Rosa – is very thoughtful.

She doesn’t make me do housework, she even hires kasambahay so that I can rest. What surprised everyone was that every month she gave me ₱20,000 called “pang-personal na gastos”, saying:
– “Anak, mas mabuti kung may pera ka sa sariling kamay, para hindi ka laging humihingi kay Rafael.”

At first, I was shy and refused, but she pressed me: “Tanggapin mo. Isipin mo na regalo ng ina mo.” From then on, she gave me money every month. My friends who heard the story all exclaimed:
– “Suwerte mo! May biyenan ka palang parang nanay din, hindi kumakampi.”

I also felt lucky, and loved my mother-in-law even more.

The truth from my mother’s side

One time, Rafael and I went to my mother’s hometown in Batangas to attend a funeral. My mother’s family was a farmer, life was difficult, so when they heard me tell the story of my mother-in-law giving me ₱20,000 every month, everyone was surprised.

My youngest sister immediately said, half-jokingly, half-seriously:
– “Eh bakit dito, palagi may perang dumarating buwan-buwan para sa tuition ng pinsan mo? Sabi nila galing sa inyo ni Rafael.”

I was startled. I had never sent it, and Rafael rarely contacted his maternal relatives. I asked carefully, and my youngest sister said:
– “Tatlong taon na, buwan-buwan may padala. Minsan ₱6,000, minsan ₱10,000. Laging pangalan ni Rafael ang nasa sender.”

That sentence was like a bucket of cold water poured on my head.

That night, I asked my husband. Rafael was stunned, and affirmed:
– “Wala akong pinapadala kahit kanino. Buwan-buwan, binibigay ko lahat ng sahod ko kay Mama para siya mag-manage.”

Hearing that, my heart was pounding. I remembered that it was my mother-in-law who kept the savings book and managed the household expenses. I secretly checked her internet banking, which she had asked me to set up before. Indeed, every month there was a transfer to Batangas, on the same day she gave me “pang-personal na gastos.”

The amount was the same.

Mother-in-law’s confession

The next evening, I mustered up the courage to ask Doña Rosa directly. She looked at me for a long time and sighed:
– “Alam mo na pala, hija?”

She said that on the wedding day, my grandmother borrowed money from everywhere to pay for the síng-alang-alang, for the mukhang pantay with the groom’s family. After the wedding, my mother-in-law knew that her family’s situation was difficult, and she pitied me as the youngest daughter, afraid that I would feel sorry for myself.

– “Iniisip ko, anak, pag may asawa ka na, mahirap na ang bumalik-balik sa nanay mo para humingi. Kaya ako na ang gumagawa. Ang perang ibinibigay ko sa’yo, ako rin ang pinapadala sa Batangas. Para hindi ka mahiya, at para hindi maramdaman ng pamilya mo na iniwan mo sila.”

I choked up. Every time my grandmother called to thank me, I thought it was thanks to my husband and I, but it turned out it was all because of my mother-in-law.

Rafael’s change

When Rafael found out, he reacted violently. He felt offended because his mother had taken the initiative to take care of his wife’s side on his own.

– “Mama, parang sinasabi niyo na hindi ko kayang alagaan si Maribel. Ano’ng tingin niyo sa akin?”

Doña Rosa calmly said:
– “Hindi kita minamaliit. Pero mula’t sapul, si Maribel kulang sa lahat. Ngayon ikaw ang asawa, dapat mas tumitingin ka rin sa pamilya niya. Eh wala kang ginagawa kundi ibigay ang sahod mo sa akin. Kaya ako na ang kumilos.”

Her words made Rafael silent. I saw that my husband’s eyes were red.

From that day on, Rafael changed completely. He took the initiative to call to ask about his grandmother, and every month he sent his own salary back home, no longer letting his mother do it for him.

As for me, every time I received ₱20,000 from my mother-in-law, my heart ached. Finally, I returned it to her:
– “Mama, hindi ko na po kailangan. Ang kailangan ko ay pagmamahal na ibinibigay niyo.”

My mother-in-law held my hand and smiled:
– “Hija, tanggapin mo. Gusto ko lang maramdaman mo na anak kita. Mauubos ang pera, pero ang pagmamahal, hindi.”

Warm ending

Two years later, my youngest sister graduated from college thanks to that regular support. At the graduation ceremony, both my grandmother from Batangas and my husband’s family came. Everyone hugged and cried.

Doña Rosa just stood silently behind, her eyes filled with tears of happiness. I ran to hug her and whispered:
– “Mama, salamat. Kung wala kayo, hindi ko matutunan kung paano magmahal ng walang kapalit.”

She smiled:
– “Anak, masaya na ako kung masaya ka.”

Part 2: Mother-daughter-in-law love after the storm
The relationship changes

Since discovering the truth, Maribel no longer sees Doña Rosa as just a “biyenan”, but truly sees her as an ina. The feeling of distance and wariness on the first day of becoming a daughter-in-law disappears.

Every night, instead of just staying in the room with her husband, Maribel often goes down to the living room to sit with her mother-in-law, make tsaa, and chat with her. Many times, the two of them go into the kitchen together, Doña Rosa teaches her daughter-in-law traditional dishes like kare-kare or pancit canton. The family atmosphere becomes unusually cozy.

Once, Maribel whispered:
– “Mama, from the beginning I was afraid of being a daughter-in-law to a rich family. Pero dahil sa inyo, natutunan kong hindi lahat ng biyenan mahigpit. Ang iba, gaya niyo, may pusong ina.”

Doña Rosa held her hand and smiled gently:
– “Anak, hindi ko kailangan ng manugang. Ang kailangan ko ay anak na babae na makakasama ko habang buhay.”

That sentence made Maribel cry. The relationship between them was no longer the duty of daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, but became a bond like that of real mother and son.

Rafael’s change

Rafael also gradually matured. From a man who only knew how to give his salary to his mother to manage, he began to learn how to take care of both families. He took the initiative to discuss spending with Maribel, and he was the one who often reminded his wife to call and ask about Batangas.

Doña Rosa saw this and was moved many times:
– “Ngayon ko lang nakita, anak ko nagiging tunay na padre de pamilya.”

Community Reaction

When the story of “Doña Rosa quietly sent money to the manugang’s maternal home” spread throughout the barangay, everyone was talking.

Some were surprised:
– “May biyenan palang ganyan? Hindi lang iniisip ang sariling pamilya, pati pamilya ng manugang tinutulungan.”

Some were moved:
– “Kung lahat ng pamilya ganito, walang maiiwan sa hirap. Kahit manugang, tinatrato na parang sariling anak.”

During mass at church, the priest also mentioned this story as an example:
– “Pag-ibig sa pamilya ay hindi dapat nakakahon. Hindi lang sa sariling dugo, kundi pati sa mga taong isinama ng Diyos sa buhay natin.”

Gradually, Maribel was no longer called “manugang ng mayamang pamilya,” but “anak ni Doña Rosa.” Neighbors who saw mother and daughter going to the market together often laughed and said:
– “Mag-ina talaga, magkamukha sa lambing.”

Connecting the two families

On holidays and Tet, the two families – Batangas and Quezon City – gathered together. There was no longer a “paternal – maternal” gap. Everyone sat at the same table, laughed, and prayed together.

The youngest sister – who had been provided with school fees for many years – emotionally said:
– “Kung wala si Doña Rosa, baka hindi ako nakapagtapos. Pero most of all, kung wala love ng this family, I would not have had today.”

In that moment, Maribel looked at her mother-in-law, her heart filled with pride and gratitude.

Conclusion

The storm had turned into an opportunity to bond. Maribel understands that it is not wealth that holds a family together, but unconditional love.