pilitin mang maging masaya alisin ang inggit na nararamdaman sa iba minsan napapaisip ako... sana sa pasko, kasama rin kita nasa iisang hapag-kainan kasama ang aking pamilya habang kinukumusta nila tayo’t ikinukuwento ang isa't isa pagkatapos ay kakausapin ka ni papa aayain sa inuman pero sasawayin siya ni mama kasi ayaw niyang malasing ka susubukan mo na lang magligpit sa kusina pero isa ka pa ring sasawayin ni mama dahil ang gusto niya pala magkasama't masaya lang tayong da

When Christmas comes around, you can feel it in the thickness of the air. The way it shifts to lovely and crisp, slowly brushing against your skin. It’s as if the world finally stops for a moment, allowing us to bask in every bit of magic of the holidays. But for healthcare workers, time waits for no one. Their duty calls, and unlike the rest of us, it doesn’t take a holiday. The walls are white. The hallways are quiet. The wind is chilly as another day on the job begins on

By the time December arrives, streets glow with lights, carols float through the air, and politicians roll out their annual greetings of “Maligayang Pasko sa lahat.” But for millions of Filipinos, Christmas comes not with gifts or relief, but with the familiar weight of absence—no clean water, no decent roads, no classrooms repaired, no hospitals improved. In a season meant for giving, the poorest communities are left asking the same bitter question: where did the money go?