Since the day my stepfather came to live with me, the money in the cupboard has been steadily decreasing. I followed him secretly and then I AVOID the truth.
I am 30 years old this year. Dad left home when I was six years old, leaving Mom and I alone in the world. My mother never remarried, working 2-3 jobs to raise me. For many years, the two of us were the only ones who depended on each other in a rented room in Quezon City.
After college and working, taking care of myself didn’t bother my mother much. Through an acquaintance in the parish, Mom met a man named Tito Danilo — now my uncle Dan.
Tito Dan was married once and had a son, but the son lived with his biological mother in Laguna; We rarely saw each other so our relationship was weak.
Since I got to know Mom, Uncle Dan has treated me so well. I feel like he really cares about me, and he even treats me like his own son. But in my heart, I am still a little distant, hiding everything.
Until one day, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my mother and my stepfather. That day, I came home early, standing outside the door, I heard Mom saying that she wanted to have another child to bring the family closer together. Uncle Dan gently refused:
“We have Lyn, that’s enough. I’m afraid that when I have another child, she will see me as redundant and will think too much. Even though she hasn’t opened her heart to me yet, in my heart, she is my biological child. She was still young and didn’t have a father, so I have to give her all my love.
I’m also old, it’s dangerous to give birth now. Who will take care of her later, I can’t make Lyn suffer.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears. The man I secretly loved loved me very much. Since that day, my perspective changed, my heart opened, and I gradually became close to Father Dan.
At the age of 24, I got married, and not long after, I had a child. With the love of my wife, the love of my in-laws, and a stable job in Ortigas, I had no other desire. Then an incident happened: Mom passed away due to a serious illness. I was devastated for a while. Thinking of what my uncle had done for me and my children, I decided to take Tatay Dan to my family in Pasig so I could take care of him, as a way to get him back.
At first, my uncle refused, insisting that “don’t bother the children”. I begged him for a long time before he agreed to come back.
But since my uncle moved, I noticed something strange: the money in the cupboard was gradually decreasing. My wife and I both went to work early, my wife came home earlier than me; My child went to school. That day, Uncle was the only one left at home.
At first, I thought my uncle was just bringing money to go to the market, so I kept quiet. But the repeated incidents made me suspicious.
One day, I left work early. Knowing that my uncle was picking up my son in a jeep, I secretly checked the closet – it was gone again. I decided to put a small camera in the room, waiting to see what would happen.
The next day, I saw someone enter the room, slowly opening the drawer. And it wasn’t Dad Dan — it was my son. My heart sank. I didn’t expect my son to do that.
When I questioned him and showed him the evidence, he cried, whispering:
— “Mom, I just took some money to buy a birthday present for my friend…”
When I heard what he said, I felt sad and regretful. I blamed myself for not teaching him properly, I let him secretly take the money. I was even more embarrassed when I almost falsely accused Dad Dan — the man who once refused to have a biological child just to give me all his love.
That night, I apologized to my aunt. She just held her hand: “Children don’t know how to ask. You can teach them.” Then she encouraged her nephew, telling the story of the old days when he wanted to buy a yo-yo but didn’t dare ask Mom, and in the end, he went to collect empty bottles to sell for money – and she smiled gently. Not a word of reproach.
I sat next to my son, taught him to say “please – thank you – forgive me”, explained allowance and savings. I made a “3-compartment” piggy bank:
Sharing (for those in need),
Saving (buying gifts for the right occasion),
Spending (small everyday things).
My son nodded, still wiping away tears.
The next morning, I took my son to the barangay hall to meet the guidance counselor at the parenting seminar program. My son practiced saying “I’m sorry” and “I’ll ask first next time.” That night, my son wrote an apology card and put it on the closet: “I promise I won’t steal money again.”
At night, I put out a small tray of food and lit two candles – one for Mom, one for the new promise. I told my uncle: “From now on, all household expenses will be posted on the refrigerator; the key to my closet will be hung on a high hook, my wife and I will take turns checking; and I will give him money clearly every week.” My uncle smiled: “Only when there are rules in the house can children grow up.”
A few days later, the boy happily boasted: he had pooled his money to buy colored pencils for his friend Miko on his birthday – using his ‘savings’ money, with his mother at the National Book Store counter watching and paying the difference. She also told me to write: “From your classmate.” I looked at Dad Dan – he nodded, his eyes warm as the lights of a church on a Sunday afternoon.
I understood: my childhood had been deprived due to the absence of a father, but life had given me a precious gift – an uncle who, although not related by blood, was warm and tolerant like a brother. That love, sometimes, was even more precious than blood.
That night, I left my son three lines on his desk:
Please – No secrets.
To tell the truth – Don’t be afraid.
Thank you – Even if it was a small thing.
Then I opened my phone and changed the contact name from “Tito Dan” to “Tatay Dan”. My hand touched the two words “Tatay” and I felt a strange warmth. In the kitchen, my uncle was boiling water to make cocoa for my nephew, softly singing an old kundiman song. I suddenly felt that this house, in the middle of noisy Manila, was peaceful in the simplest way: trusting each other, teaching each other, and loving each other properly.