The mother-in-law in the province sent up a box of garlic, the daughter-in-law complained about the smell so she threw it away, when the maid opened it she was shocked and quickly quit her job, it turned out that inside was…

Lani was originally a city girl, married for more than a year. Her husband’s family was in Ilocos Norte province, only her old mother lived in an old bahay na bato. Lani’s husband – Miguel – was gentle, loved his mother, and sent money back every month to support Nanay Lourdes. As for Lani, honestly, she rarely paid attention to her mother-in-law. She was used to the comforts of Quezon City, used to cleanliness and tidiness, sometimes she somewhat despised the rusticity and rusticity.

On a weekend morning, just going downstairs, Lani saw a large cardboard box in the middle of the living room, carefully tied with nylon rope. On the outside was hastily written: “To the children. Nanay in Ilocos.”

Lani frowned, annoyed:

– What other clutter is this?

She walked over, a strong, pungent smell wafted out. Just smelling it, Lani frowned:

Oh my god, what’s that smell?

Without opening it, she blurted out:

It must be bawang and dried onions. There’s so much to eat in Manila, why do you keep sending it up there to make it miserable?

Miguel hadn’t come home from work yet, and there was only Lani and the maid – Aling Rosa. Seeing Lani grumble, Aling Rosa said softly:

– Just leave it there, I’ll open it and see. In the province, whatever people send is from the heart, miss.

Lani brushed it off:

– Oh, Aling, I can’t stand this smell. It’s all rustic stuff, not worth much. Throw it away to avoid looking at things.

Saying that, she told Aling Rosa to pull the box out, intending to take it to the apartment’s garbage collection area. Aling Rosa was gentle, half wanting to do it, half feeling sorry. She stopped, quietly took a knife to cut the tape.

As soon as the bandages were removed, the smell of Ilocos garlic filled the room – strong, but hidden beneath was a familiar scent. Aling Rosa shook as she brushed aside each layer of dried garlic, her eyes suddenly blurred as she saw small packages wrapped in dried banana leaves and old Philippine Daily Inquirer newspapers.

She opened one package: inside was… a bottle of expensive tonic medicine, with the label still intact, and a handwritten note:

“Miguel often has stomach problems, Nanay heard that this is good. Lani often stays up late, so she drinks this to help her health. Nanay doesn’t have much money, so she saves and sends it up. Don’t look down on me, kids.”

Aling Rosa was stunned, tears streaming down her face. She opened another: some dried tsaa tea leaves, some luya (ginger), some pastillas de leche, some simple but loving country gifts. At the bottom of the box was a thin piece of wrapping paper, in which was a savings book in Miguel’s name at a bank, with more than two hundred thousand pesos. On the paper clip was a shaky line:

“Nanay saved it for when the children are in trouble. Don’t tell anyone, I’m afraid people will laugh at me for being too old to worry.”

Aling Rosa hugged the box, unable to speak. She thought of her old mother in Ilocos, painstakingly collecting every penny, hiding it under the bawang to prevent theft, then sending it by bus to Manila. All she wanted was for her children to have a little extra for themselves.

Lani stood behind, saw Aling Rosa sobbing, frowned:

– Why is Aling crying? What’s so terrible?

Aling Rosa looked up, her eyes red, her voice choked:

Miss Lani… this isn’t just garlic. This is Nanay’s love, her whole heart. I… I can’t continue working here anymore. My heart can’t bear to see you treat me like this.

Saying that, she shakily wiped her tears, put everything back, and quit her job that very morning. Lani was stunned, before she could understand, the phone rang. It was Miguel. His voice was excited:
– Honey, Nanay sent the gift box today. In it is something mom saved for you for a long time. Remember to keep it carefully, don’t lose it.

Lani stuttered, unable to speak. Looking at the cardboard box, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. In her mind appeared the hunched back, calloused hands of a Nanay in a poor province, who must have spent many days collecting each garlic bulb, each small package, then tremblingly writing those words.

She felt how small and selfish she was. For so long, she had been used to enjoying, used to criticizing the rustic, forgetting that love does not distinguish between high and low. A box of pungent bawang might be meaningless to her, but it was a mother’s whole world of longing and worry.

That afternoon, when Miguel came home, Lani had already opened the box. She choked up and handed him the savings book and Nanay’s piece of paper. Miguel looked on, speechless, his eyes red. He squeezed his wife’s hand, not blaming her, just softly saying:
– Luckily you didn’t throw it away. It’s your mother’s flesh and blood.

Lani burst into tears, leaning on her husband’s shoulder:
– I’m sorry… I was wrong…

That night, she tossed and turned. A determination arose in her heart: tomorrow morning she would return to Ilocos, meet Nanay Lourdes, bow her head to apologize and cook a hot sinigang meal with her own hands. She understood that from now on, family love was the most important thing to preserve.

And somewhere, in the night breeze with the strong scent of bawang, Lani felt the warmth of a mother’s love, immense, simple yet sacred.