Liwanag: The Lost Poem That Found Its Way Home

By Ryan Ferrer (Guest Writer)

This Mother’s Day, our family remembers a poem that was once lost for decades—and the mother whose life gave meaning to every word written in it.

In the early 1960s, in Muñoz, Nueva Ecija, Flaviano Fos wrote a handwritten poem for his young granddaughter named Liwanag, who was then living in General Santos City. He simply called it “Liwanag.”

Written carefully on lined paper in beautiful penmanship, the poem spoke about light—how it guides, comforts, and keeps a family together during difficult times. Flaviano, a professor at Central Luzon State University, may not have realized it then, but the poem would one day become one of the family’s most treasured memories.

But somewhere through the passing years, the original poem disappeared.

Like many Filipino families, life moved quickly. Children grew up, homes changed, and families migrated overseas. The handwritten copy of “Liwanag” was eventually lost and quietly became one of those things the family thought they would never see again.

Yet Liwanag herself never forgot it.

Even without the paper, she memorized the poem by heart. She carried every verse with her through childhood, motherhood, and later, life in Canada. Sometimes she would speak about the missing poem and wonder aloud where it could have gone. She hoped it might still exist somewhere among old belongings or forgotten keepsakes back home in the Philippines.

In 2001, her son started a family in Vancouver. Years later, in 2013, Liwanag joined them and continued dedicating her life to teaching and caring for family. Known affectionately as “Nanay Ling,” she spent more than 25 years as a Filipino language teacher, helping preserve Filipino culture for younger generations.

To her family, however, she was more than a teacher. She was warmth, guidance, patience, and sacrifice. She became exactly what the poem described decades earlier—a light inside the home.

Then came a discovery that felt almost impossible. During a visit back to the family’s hometown, her son Ryan came across an old handwritten paper tucked away among belongings that had survived generations. It was the original poem “Liwanag”—the same fragile paper written by Lolo Flaviano more than 60 years earlier.

The family could hardly believe it. After decades of being lost, the poem had somehow found its way home. Its paper had aged. The ink had faded. But the emotion inside the words remained untouched by time.

For the family, rediscovering the poem became more than simply finding an old document. It felt like reconnecting with a piece of their mother’s soul and hearing the voice of a grandfather reaching across generations.

Sadly, Liwanag passed away in Vancouver in March 2024.

But before and after her passing, the rediscovery of the poem brought comfort to the family—a reminder that love can survive distance, migration, time, and even loss itself.

Years after writing “Liwanag,” Lolo Flaviano would write another poem titled “Bituin” (“Star”) in the mid-1970s for one of his great granddaughters, continuing a family tradition of expressing love through poetry.

This Mother’s Day, the family remembers Nanay Ling through the poem she cherished her entire life—a poem once lost, but never forgotten. Because sometimes, the things we lose eventually find their way back to us when we need them most.

“Liwanag”

Kakambal ko ay si Dilim; ako nama’y si Liwanag,

Ilaw ako ng tahanan, tumatanglaw sa magdamag;

Ang nanay ko, at ng tatay, pag-malabo sa pagliyag

Agad akong pagigitna, at sila ko’y niyayakap…

Kailan ma’t may liwanag, sa lahat kong ginagawa,

Lumilitaw ang matuwid, haka-haka’y nawawala;

Paniwalang kinagisnan, sa isip ko’y haka-haka,

Mahirap ng imatuwid, sa aghaman ng Bathala…

Ang liwanag niyang araw tumatanglaw sa daigdig,

At ang sinag niyang buan, tumatanglaw sa pag-ibig;

Ang liwanag niyang tala, tumatanglaw sa may hapid,

At liwanag ng ilawan sa tahana’y, taga-masid

Kung ako man may problema, nagdadaan sa liwanag,

Lilinawin sa isip ko,  ng makita at mahanap

Yaong tama, na pasiya at sa puso ay maluwag,

Na tanggapin ang mali ko sa matuwid na paglingap.

Ang liwanag ng isip ko, nilalabo ng hangarin,

Tinatago ang matuwid na natatakpang yaong lihim;

Sumusunod ang isip sa ligaya ng damdamin,

Ngunit lahat ay may hanggan, sa ligaya ay may lagim.