The Lost Present

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The Christmas decor fluttered along the cool morning breeze. Christmas songs were already heard across our neighborhood. It's just September, but here in our country we already anticipate Christmas when the 'ber months start.

I counted the coins that I've been saving up lately. My sister was also counting her savings, and she grinned as she showed me the coins she'd been saving up. I smiled inwardly because I thought her savings were higher than mine, but it turns out that mine was still higher.

"Hey, Gette, tell me how much are your savings now?", she asked while peering at my savings in my coin pouch.

I stuck my tongue out and closed my coin purse.

"Why would I tell you?", I said arrogantly while I hid my coin purse inside my school bag.

"Please, Gette, tell me how much it is!", she demanded while tugging on my shirt. I pulled it from her and scowled.

"It's none of your business, Loi! Scram will you; I'm trying to arrange my stuff here," I complained as I turned my back on her.

She continued to complain for a few more minutes until she got tired of it. I sighed in contentment as I finally heard silence from her.

"Loi, Gette, come here!", my father called. His loud voice filled our small house, and upon hearing it, I hastily stood up and went to him.

"Yes, Pa?", I asked when I arrived where he was.

"Here," he said while handling me a heavy cylinder. It was so heavy that I almost dropped it the moment I received it from him.

"What is this, Pa?", I asked while I held it with difficulty.

"That will be your piggy bank from now on... You'll place your coins there so that you'll not be tempted to spend it with your toys or foods," he said in a voice filled with optimism.

"Piggy bank? This isn't a pig at all, Papa," I responded absentmindedly.

He laughed when he heard what I'd said.

I frowned in confusion as I tried to grasp how I would use this heavy cylinder.

"You'll put your coins here, then at Christmas I'll cut it so that you can use it to buy what you want," he said as he ruffled my hair.

I immediately got excited the moment I heard about 'buying what I want'. We aren't that financially stable family ever since then, so me and my siblings always save up for our personal whims. We grew up with a mentality that we don't want to be a burden to our parents; that's why we save for the things we want.

That Christmas I planned to buy a new backpack, so I really saved up.

"Gette, Gette, what's that?", Loi asked while looking curiously at the heavy metal cylinder I'm holding.

"My coin bank...", I said smugly.

"Where's mine, then?", she asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow, Loi, I'll bring yours tomorrow," my father soothingly answered.

"Ahhhhh, why do Gette always get the first? Don't you love me, Papa?", Loi asked while tugging at his shirt's hem.

"Sorry, Loi, Papa didn't finish it today because I'm in a hurry to get home. Don't you want your Papa to go home?"

"I want... but..."

"Sorry, Loi... Come here; I'll just hug you," he said while extending his arms to Loi. Loi smiled mischievously at me, then she hugged our father. I just shrugged because she definitely was fooled again.

"Come here, Gette—"

"Don't hug Gette, Pa! She already has her coin bank, so there's no need to hug her anymore," she said begrudgingly while hugging father.

"Ok, ok... My little Loi..."

I rolled my eyes and just laughed at her childishness.

'I'll definitely win this saving race, and I'll really buy the backpack I've been wanting for!'

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However, just before December, something happened.

Loi got sick, and our funds at that time weren't enough for her medicines, so...

"Gette, can we use your savings? We really need to buy Loi's medicines. I'll pay you back if we already have money," she said softly.

At that time, I didn't understand the need to lend her my money because I thought Loi was just experiencing an ordinary fever.

"Do you really need the money, Mama?", I asked cautiously.

She sighed and nodded. I don't want to lend her my money that time because I know she most of the time forgets to pay it. My savings already reached a considerable amount that time, so I really hesitated if I'd lend it to her or not.

I gaze at my mother. She looks tired from caring for Loi day and night. I looked down and let out a sharp breath.

"Fine, Ma, just tell Papa to cut it," I said with reluctance.

"Thank you, Gette," she said while hugging me. I know I'm supposed to feel happy that time, but instead I felt a heavy feeling lumping inside of me. And I don't like it—I hate it when I feel that.


'I shouldn't have planned for my personal Christmas present,' I pondered as I stared at the happy children who had already started unwrapping the presents they received from their godparents.

"Gette, Gette... Look! Papa already cut my coin bank!", Loi exclaimed as she rushed excitedly to me.

I just smiled at her, but deep inside I don't like seeing her get all excited when I don't have mine. I may sound so selfish, but that was what I felt at that time.

"You shouldn't have cut yours, Gette! We should have cut ours the same time, so that we will know who saved up the most!"

"Yeah...", I responded weakly. She doesn't know the reason why I cut my coin bank, and I don't want her to know anyway.

"But don't worry, Gette, I'll buy you a present with my savings!", she said excitedly.

"Huh? What are you saying? It's yours, so buy something you want," I said irritatedly as I looked away from her.

"Whatever, I'll buy you a Christmas present whether you like it or not."

"Don't.."

"Why?"

"I said just don't... It's your savings," I said with finality.

She didn't answer and just snorted. It was Christmas next morning, and the moment I woke up, I saw a small package next to my pillow.

There was a note stuck to it, and it says: Merry Christmass! From: Your Beautiful Sister.

I smiled as I read her misspelled greetings. I unwrapped it and laughed when I saw what was inside.

It's my favorite chips.

At least someone bought me something that I want—and it's my favorite!

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'Not bad for a present,' I thought contently while munching the chips with relish.

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