The Grandchildren Were Deeply Ashamed of Their Grandmother Because at Every Birthday Party She “Stuffed Her Pockets” with Lumpia and Fried Chicken to Take Home. But One Afternoon, They Followed Her—and Their Hearts Shattered When They Saw Where She Was Bringing the Food.
It was the grand 7th birthday party of Lola Nena’s great-grandchild.
The venue was beautiful, filled with balloons, and the food was catered.
But in one corner of the buffet table, 85-year-old Lola Nena was busy.
Quietly, she took leftover lumpia and fried chicken from the trays and slipped them into the plastic bag she had brought with her. The pockets of her old house dress were already stuffed with spring rolls.
Her granddaughter Carla noticed.
“Oh my God,” Carla whispered to her cousins.
“Look at Grandma. She’s packing food again! This is so embarrassing! We have so many guests!”
Carla walked up to Lola Nena and snatched the plastic bag from her hands.
“Grandma!” Carla shouted.
“Why are you so greedy?! You already ate, didn’t you? Why do you still have to stuff food into your pockets?! You look like you’re starving! You’re embarrassing us in front of my in-laws!”
Lola Nena lowered her head. She clutched the remaining lumpia tightly.
“Grandchild… it’s just such a waste… it’s delicious… I only wanted to take it home…”
“Take it home?!” Carla yelled.
“We have plenty of food at home! From now on, we’re not bringing you to parties anymore! Just stay at home and make a mess there!”
Lola Nena went home in tears.
From then on, whenever there was a reunion or birthday party, they simply left her alone in her room.
One afternoon, Carla saw Lola Nena leave the gate carrying a small bag.
It came from the fast-food place where Carla had eaten earlier—chicken bones and skin that were about to be thrown away, but Lola had asked for them.
“Where is she going?” Carla wondered.
“I’ll follow her. Maybe she’s digging through trash and eating it.”
Carla and her brother Mike followed their grandmother.
Lola Nena boarded a jeepney heading to the cemetery.
When she got off, she slowly walked toward the older section of the cemetery—where their grandfather Lolo Carding was buried. He had died during World War II, long before Carla and Mike were born.
They hid behind a tombstone.
They saw Lola Nena sit on the grass in front of Lolo Carding’s grave.
Slowly, she took out the “trash” food—the old lumpia, chicken skin, and bits of rice.
She carefully arranged them on top of the grave, like a feast.
Then Lola Nena began to speak, gently stroking the headstone.
“Carding, my love…” her voice was rough.
“Let’s eat. I’m sorry, this is all I managed to bring home. Our grandchildren don’t take me to parties anymore.”
Carla frowned. Why was Grandma talking to the dead?
Lola Nena continued, tears falling.
“Do you remember the war? When we hid in the mountains? We went three days without food. You found a single piece of moldy bread.”
Lola sobbed.
“You were starving, Carding—skin and bones. But when you saw our children crying from hunger… you gave them that last piece of bread. You didn’t keep even one bite for yourself.”
Carla and Mike’s eyes widened. Their father had survived because of their grandfather’s sacrifice.
“You told me before you died of hunger… ‘Nena, make sure our children are fed. Let me go—just let them live.’”
Lola Nena’s shoulders shook as she cried.
“So, Carding… that’s why I pack food… because I want you to taste all the delicious things you never got to eat. I want to make it up to you. Our grandchildren are wealthy now because you saved their parents’ lives. I wish you were here to taste this lumpia—it was your favorite, remember?”
She picked up a lumpia and held it toward the headstone, as if feeding her husband.
“Eat, my love. We’re not hungry anymore.”
Behind the tombstone, Carla and Mike collapsed to their knees.
What they had thought was “greed” and “shame” was actually pure love and remembrance of a hero. Their grandfather had died of hunger so the family could live—and Lola Nena had never forgotten.
The siblings ran forward and hugged their grandmother.
“Grandma!!! We’re so sorry!” Carla cried.
“We’re sorry we stopped you! We’re sorry we judged you!”
Lola Nena was startled.
“My grandchildren? Why are you here?”
“Grandma, from now on,” Mike said as he rearranged the food on the grave,
“you’ll always come with us to parties. And we—we’ll be the ones to pack the best food for Grandpa Carding. Lechon, steak—everything. We’ll bring it all here.”
That day, they shared a meal at the cemetery.
It wasn’t fancy dining, but it was the most meaningful meal they had ever had—
because they were sharing it with the memory of a grandfather who gave his life,
and a grandmother who taught them the true meaning of love.