From Lunch Box to Banana: Understanding the Depth of Maternal Love

Celebrating Mother’s Day offers a chance to reflect not only on our mothers’ love but also on the “maternal” love shown by others who have acted as mothers in various ways. This day rekindles memories of our mothers, from the moment they carried us in their wombs to the present.

My mother’s influence has been profound. She instilled in us a strong sense of responsibility and faith, consistently providing for our needs. I vividly remember her preparing our “baon” (lunchboxes), from kindergarten through adulthood. Each day, opening my lunchbox was an act of love, a feeling that persists to this day. In my younger years, I envied classmates who bought lunch at the canteen and craving the perceived “coolness” of having that independence. However, I later realized the immeasurable value of my mother’s lovingly prepared meals. It was a privilege I didn’t fully appreciate then. I remember my teachers noticing me eating in the classroom, commenting, “You’re lucky, Francis, to have someone prepare your lunch.” Even in college, I inexplicably felt embarrassed bringing my “baon,” despite its convenience and the avoidance of cafeteria lines. Looking back, I’m unsure why I felt the need to conform to my classmates, perhaps seeking a misguided sense of coolness or sophistication. One college professor even pointed out the luxury of readily available drinking fountains, contrasting it with their own experiences without such amenities. Now, the simple act of a packed lunch, provided with love, holds a deeper meaning I understand and cherish. It really amazes me that even as a professional, my mother continues to prepare for my lunch, though I only miss it when I’m out on farm visits.

During one such visit, I observed a supervisor explaining the Volume Management Program (VMP) to a guest. Surprisingly, the program’s structure mirrored the nurturing relationship between a mother and daughter. I realized that the maternal sacrifice resonates with the relationship between a banana plant (mother) and its sucker (daughter). In banana farming, to optimize production, farmers sometimes employ “vampire-staking”—killing the mother plant to encourage the growth of the suckers. While seemingly harsh, this sacrifice ensures a higher yield at the optimal time. This parallels the sacrifices mothers make, such as a mother choosing to raise her children instead of pursuing her career, or an OFW working abroad to provide for her family. Even the modern “houseband” exemplifies this selfless dedication. We often associate motherhood with biological children, but many others embody maternal love—social workers caring for orphans, or a dedicated financial controller working tirelessly to support her organization’s employees.

This realization echoed a Lenten homily, specifically a Good Friday reflection that profoundly moved me. The priest posed the poignant question: “Must Jesus’ crucifixion be necessary just to demonstrate his love for us?” This resonated deeply; why did it have to reach such an extreme?

In the same manner, the selfless sacrifice of Maria Cristina Cella Mocellin, who in 1995 chose to forgo potentially life-saving chemotherapy to ensure the birth of her son Riccardo, stands as a powerful testament to a mother’s love.

This echoes the unwavering devotion of parents, particularly mothers, who tirelessly strive to provide the best for their children and the countless unrecognized sacrifices of mothers everywhere – from the quiet preparation of meals to the selfless extension of love to grandchildren, often at the expense of their own comfort. It’s a love demanding everything, often hurting, ultimately reminding us of the profound difficulty and immeasurable reward of truly loving deeply.

Finally, Mother’s Day is for all who embody maternal love, despite challenges and societal expectations. Their acts, both grand and small, reveal the immeasurable depth of maternal devotion. Their love is like a cherished “baon” or packed lunch that continues to nourish and feed our souls. (Francis Manayan)