Laughter erupted from another table.
“Maybe it’s full of five-peso coins! Fare money for the newlyweds!” a cousin joked.
Berto lowered his head, humiliated.
“Adrian, Belle… I’m sorry. This is all I could manage,” he said softly.
He was about to place the piggy bank under the table to hide it, but Adrian stopped him.
Adrian took the heavy, dirty piggy bank and hugged it.
“Thank you, Kuya,” Adrian said seriously into the microphone. “For me, this is the most beautiful gift.”
Tita Viring scoffed. “Oh please! Such drama! Break it already so we can count the coins! Maybe you can give them to the waiters!”
Because of the mockery, Adrian asked the hotel’s maintenance crew for a hammer.
“You want to see what’s inside?” Adrian challenged the laughing guests. “Fine. I’ll break it.”
He placed the piggy bank in the middle of the dance floor. The room fell silent, everyone waiting for rusty coins to scatter everywhere.
Adrian raised the hammer.
CRACK!
The cement pig shattered into pieces.
But there was no clinking of coins. No five- or one-peso coins flew out.
Amid the broken cement lay a small velvet box and a folded piece of paper.
Adrian picked up the box and opened it.
Inside gleamed a key—a house key.
He unfolded the paper and read it aloud into the microphone, his voice trembling.
“Little brother, do you remember when we were kids? We used to stand by the gate of the ‘White House’ in our town. You always said it was your dream to live in a house like that someday.
For ten years, from every harvest, from every carabao I sold, I saved the money in this piggy bank. I’ve bought the White House, Adrian. Fully paid. It’s already titled in your name and Belle’s. This is my gift to you, so you’ll never have to rent again.”
Gasps filled the room.
The “White House” he mentioned was the largest mansion in their province.
Tita Viring turned pale. The cousins who had laughed earlier stood frozen, mouths hanging open. The piggy bank they thought was trash contained millions worth of sacrifice.
Adrian broke down in tears and ran to Berto, hugging his brother tightly.
“Kuya… this is too much! You left nothing for yourself!” Adrian sobbed.
Berto simply smiled, tears in his eyes.
“I’m fine, little brother. Seeing you successful and happy—that’s my wealth.”
Adrian then faced the guests, especially Tita Viring, who could no longer meet his gaze.
“You laughed at my brother’s piggy bank because it looked dirty on the outside. But you didn’t know that inside it was gold—the golden heart of a brother that no amount of wealth in this room could ever match.”
In the end, the broken piggy bank became the center of attention—not because it was made of cement, but because it symbolized a love that cannot be measured by shiny wrapping, only by the weight of what’s inside.