I’m 69 years old. Every month my son sends money, but I never receive anything — I investigated in secret, and the bank’s security cameras left the whole family in silence
It’s strange. It’s been almost a year, and I haven’t received a single centavo. I still depend on the small government pension I get every month.
I’m 69 years old, and although my youngest son sends money every month, I never receive any of it. I investigated in secret, and the bank’s security camera footage left the entire family in silence…
Now that I’m 69, most of my hair has turned white. Ever since my husband passed away, I’ve lived with my eldest son and his wife in our small house in the province.
My youngest son—Jun—works abroad. Ever since he left, he always calls me and says:
“Ma, don’t worry. Every month I’ll send money to the account under your name. Use it for your daily needs and for your old age.”
Those words eased my heart.
But for almost a year now, I haven’t received anything. I still live only on my small senior pension.
Every time I ask, my daughter-in-law tells me:
“Ma, you’re old already. You don’t need much. We’ll take care of you.”
It sounds sweet, sounds caring… but something inside me has felt uneasy for months.
One day, I called Jun.
“Son, is something wrong? Why haven’t I received any money?”
He was shocked.
“What do you mean? I send money every month to your account! The bank even calls me to confirm it! Try checking again, Ma.”
My blood ran cold.
If he’s sending money… then where is it going?
The next day, I went to the bank and asked for a statement.
The staff checked and spoke softly:
“Lola, the money goes into your account every month. But not long after, it’s withdrawn from the ATM.”
My knees felt weak.
I don’t even know how to use an ATM.
So who was taking the money?
I asked to see the CCTV footage.
When the video played, my legs trembled and I sat down immediately.
The person withdrawing the money… was my daughter-in-law.
Her calm face as she pulled out thick stacks of cash…
I took the documents and printed photos home.
That night, I called the couple to the table.
I laid everything before them.
“This is the money Jun has been sending me for the past year.
But I never received a single peso.
Look… see for yourselves.”
My eldest son opened the file—and his eyes widened when he saw his wife’s face on the screen.
His voice shook with anger:
“Is this true?
Was this you?”
My daughter-in-law fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry, Ma… I’m sorry, love… I let greed blind me.
I saw that Jun was sending so much money, and Ma barely spent anything.
I was afraid she was saving everything to give to him when he comes home, while we were struggling so much.
That’s why… I dared to take it.”
It felt like a knife had been pushed through my chest.
Not because of the money—
but because of the trust that shattered.
My son shouted, furious:
“You disrespected my own mother!”
I grabbed his arm, crying.
“Enough.
Money… can be earned again.
But a broken family… that wound lasts forever.
All I ask is this: be honest.
Don’t let greed eat your hearts.”
The entire house fell into heavy silence.
My daughter-in-law cried and cried.
My son lowered his head, ashamed, holding back tears.
The next morning, my daughter-in-law returned all the money and vowed never to do it again.
I accepted it…
but the pain stayed.
The images from the bank… I will never forget.
A scar on my heart.
A scar made by betrayal.
A lesson:
anyone can change because of money.
I hold no hatred.
But I will never forget.
Because what matters is not the money Jun sends…
but real love and family unity.
And when greed destroys it… everything falls apart.