“Filipino wife and mother. Very caring”

In a home where laughter dances on the air,  
A gentle hand mends every worry, every care.  
Her smile, the sunrise scattered in our days,  
Warm as the tropic sun, soft as monsoon haze.  

She rises with dawn, slippered feet on cool tile,  
Tending the pots where garlic sizzles awhile.  
The scent of sinigang, the rustle of rice—  
She weaves simple wonders with fingers precise.  

Her words, a lullaby when the world feels rough,  
Tender as abel-Iloko, enduring and tough.  
She teaches with patience, her lessons like gold—  
To honor, to listen, to be brave and bold.  

On Sundays she hums an old kundiman tune,  
Hair pinned with a comb, heart shaped by the moon.  
She lights every feast with laughter and song,  
Her strength in small things, her grace ever strong.  

O Inay, O Mahal, your love is our shield,  
A harbor of care in life's wild, stormy field.  
You gather our hopes as you gather our hands—  
A Filipino mother's love, wide as all lands.

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