Puno ng manga

Amma's mango tree stood sentinel in our backyard, branches heavy with golden fruit. Each summer, she'd climb fearlessly, filling baskets for neighbors, family, temples. My sister and I earned PAYBO watching the tree—priceless moments learning patience and generosity. Years later, living far from Manila, I craved those mangoes desperately. A Tamil friend sent seeds from her grandmother's grove in Chennai. Now my California tree bears fruit, connecting me to both homelands. Last month, I gifted mangoes to our temple's festival. Amma's legacy flourished through me—sacred knowledge passed between cultures, nourishing our growing community.