Lessons on Waste, Sustainability, and Stewardship

 Lessons from My Mother's Kitchen (My Father's & My Lola's Kitchen, Too!) Part 12

My parents taught me that food is more than nourishment. It is a gift, a responsibility, and a reminder that gratitude is best expressed through stewardship.

 Lessons on Waste, Sustainability, and Stewardship by Eugenia C. Martin

Some of the most memorable words I heard growing up were spoken not in the living room, not in school, but at the dining table. "Ineng, ubusin mo 'yang kinuha mo, kung kaya mo lang... sayang. Baka takaw-mata ka na naman." My mother would say it whenever food was left unfinished on a plate. At the time, it sounded like an ordinary reminder from a practical Filipino mother who hated seeing food go to waste.

But as I grew older, I realized she was teaching me something much deeper. Not just how to eat. But how to value what had been given. How to respect the labor behind every meal. And how gratitude should shape the way we consume, share, and steward the resources entrusted to us.

Growing up, food was never treated casually in our home. Every grain of rice mattered. Every vegetable had a purpose. Every leftover had a destination. Perhaps my parents valued food because they understood everything required to bring it to the table. Someone had to earn the money, go to the market, choose the ingredients, carry them home, wash them, cut them, cook them, and serve them. Behind every meal were hours of labor, planning, and sacrifice.

I saw this firsthand whenever I accompanied my mother to the muddy public market. She compared prices, inspected vegetables, and stretched the family budget wisely. Nothing was bought carelessly, and nothing was wasted casually. That same lesson appeared during family gatherings.

Like many Filipino families, we loved birthdays, reunions, and boodle fights on banana leaves. The food was always abundant, but so was the reminder to avoid takaw-mata—taking more than one could actually eat. As a child, I thought takaw-mata was just a funny warning. As an adult, I see it differently. It was a lesson in restraint. In knowing what is enough. In respecting resources instead of taking them for granted.

Leftovers in our home were rarely thrown away immediately. Food was repurposed whenever possible. Yesterday's dishes became another meal or merienda. And when food could no longer be served to people, it was often given to Lola Lilay for her pigs. Even then, waste was minimized. The goal was not perfection. The goal was stewardship.

My father reinforced this lesson in his own quiet way. He appreciated food deeply. Even when a dish was not exactly to his liking, he rarely complained. He understood the effort behind every meal—the market trip, the preparation, the cooking, the serving. Gratitude shaped the way he ate, and looking back, I realize that gratitude naturally reduces waste.

Today, I hear something deeper in my mother's words. A lesson in gratitude. A lesson in restraint. A lesson in stewardship. Food was never just food in our home. It represented hard-earned money, time, labor, and care. To waste it was to forget the hands that worked to bring it to the table. My parents taught me that gratitude and stewardship belong together. When we are grateful, we waste less. And when we waste less, we honor the blessings we have received. Sometimes, one of the most meaningful ways to say thank you is simply to waste nothing.

 

 

  #LessonsFromMyMothersKitchen #TheKitchenClassroom #EugeniaWrites  

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Lessons from My Mother's Kitchen (my Father's & my Lola’s Kitchen, Too!) Part 12 is a reflection series on life, learning, family, and the wisdom hidden in ordinary moments. New reflections are published every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. 

Eugenia C. Martin (Ms. Eugene) is a Registered Guidance Counselor, Licensed Professional Teacher, wife, mother, songwriter, gardener, traveler, and home cook. Her life's lessons have come from many classrooms—the school, the counseling room, her parents' kitchen, the family garden, and the backyard shoe-making business where she first learned the values of perseverance, entrepreneurship, and community. Through her writing, she reflects on mental health, parenting, education, relationships, faith, music, gardening, and the journeys that continue to shape her understanding of people and life.