(A thread) When I was a kid, my dad was working minimum wage in the Philippines while selling balut on the side. My mom was a stay-at-home mom taking care of me and my sister, trying to get by everyday, with the little money that we had. We had a small house with no ceiling, not
praying deeply for everyone feeling the weight of loneliness and silence during a season thatβs traditionally reserved for reuniting with loved ones.