The weight of unimaginable grief hung heavy in the air, yet the night was deliberately declared a “night of thanksgiving.” This was the challenging, deeply personal paradox embraced by Kim and Feli Atienza as they stood to deliver their final, heartfelt goodbye to their daughter, Emman. Her life, though tragically cut short, was a breathtaking tapestry woven with threads of extraordinary kindness, unbridled authenticity, and an intelligence that illuminated every room she entered.

The eulogy, a profound blend of heartbreaking sorrow and fierce pride, became a global testament to the enduring power of a beautiful soul. It was a vulnerable sharing of a family’s deepest pain, yet it offered an unexpected, clear message of hope: the most meaningful legacy anyone can leave behind is simply to “Be a little kind every day.”

A Father’s Agonizing Question and the Power of a Single Letter
Kim Atienza, often known for his vibrant energy and enthusiasm, began his tribute with a raw acknowledgment of his faith and his despair. He found solace in knowing Emman was now with God, but the pain of her absence was crippling. He thanked everyone for their presence, noting that the comfort from his family—his “beautiful wife,” his son who “graduated from Boston and works there,” and his daughter, Eliana, whom he called his “warrior”—was his only anchor.

Kim wrestled publicly with the struggle every grieving parent faces. He questioned his faith, wondering why Emman was taken despite his nightly prayers for her “peace, healing, and protection.” In a moment of deep sadness and despair, he prayed for a sign, any sign, to make sense of the senseless tragedy.

That sign arrived, not through a heavenly vision, but through an email from a stranger.

Amidst the “numerous messages from friends and strangers,” one letter stood out—from an Indonesian student named Kahaya. Kahaya offered deep condolences, calling Emman “one of the smartest people she knew and an endless inspiration.” The revelation that followed was both chilling and undeniably divine: Kahaya admitted that on the very day Emman passed away, she too had attempted to end her life. Kahaya went on to express deep regret for her attempt and vowed to “continue living in Emman’s memory, promising to do everything in her power to uphold that.”

For Kim, the message was clear, delivered with the piercing clarity only a moment of profound loss can provide. Emman’s life, and her death, carried a message that resonated far beyond their immediate circle: “Be a little kind every day. Just a little kindness every day.” He concluded his speech by stating that while Emman’s passing is the “worst time of his life,” he holds onto hope, believing that if he practices kindness, Emman “will live on in his heart.” His final, heart-wrenching words to his daughter were: “Salamat Emman, I love you. Say hi to Jesus for me. You’re lovely. My little Imanski, Aman.”

The Extraordinary Extent of Her Generosity
Before the revelation of the letter, Kim painted an unforgettable picture of his daughter’s character, highlighting her most defining trait: “excessively generous.” According to him, Emman simply “didn’t value money” and would often ask her parents or brother for funds simply to give them away.

He shared two powerful anecdotes that illustrated the breathtaking extent of her heart.

The first was a Christmas story. Emman’s grandfather had given significant sums of money to his staff, whom he affectionately called his “apostles.” Emman, having received her own share, later proudly recounted to her father that she had gifted ₱30,000 to their driver, ₱20,000 to Alicia, and ₱10,000 to their gardener. The staff had been moved to “cry tears of happiness.” Kim confessed, with a tone of immense, yet slightly cautionary pride, that while he told her not to inform her mother (who would surely be angry), he felt “immense pride in her generosity.” For Emman, money was purely a vehicle for happiness, instantly transferring its value to the recipient.

The second story cemented her impulse to give. The night before Emman was scheduled to leave for Los Angeles, she went rock climbing with her father. Kim bought her a new pair of glasses for ₱15,000. While waiting for the glasses to be prepared, Emman decided to treat her friends at the climbing gym. She didn’t just buy a few pizzas—she ordered a staggering 20 pizzas from Domino’s, costing ₱28,000, for the nearly “hundred people” present. It was an extravagant, yet perfectly characteristic, gesture. Kim added that she would constantly ask for G-Cash from her parents to treat her friends and would often borrow the car for hours just to “pick up and drop off 10 friends,” all driven by her generous spirit. Her kindness was not reserved for special occasions; it was the default setting of her soul.

A Better Version: Intelligence, Authenticity, and an Enduring Presence
Feli Atienza, Emman’s mother, then took the stage, providing a deeply intimate look at her daughter’s mind and spirit. She described Emman as a “miniature version” of herself, though she quickly acknowledged the traits she shared with her father.

With Kim, Emman shared a talent for “yakking” (talking a lot) at the dinner table and a similar sense of humor, often bonding over great singers, actors, and dancers. With her mother, the resemblance was physical: similar “facial features, long legs, and a ‘waddling duck walk’.”

But Feli emphasized that Emman was, above all, an exceptional individual. She highlighted Emman’s “exceptional intelligence,” calling her a “better version” of herself. She recalled the pride she felt when Emman’s elementary school principal declared “the best Aanza is yet to come.” Years later, her English teacher in boarding school, after only one semester, wrote on Emman’s report card that she was “one of the best students she had ever had.” Beyond her academic brilliance, Emman possessed a “very high emotional intelligence (EQ),” capable of navigating complex feelings in herself and others.

However, the trait Feli believed was Emman’s most powerful was her “authenticity.” Emman was not afraid to be seen. She “openly shared her stories, pain, struggles, and joy,” a vulnerability that resonated deeply with so many, leading to the “thunderous outpouring of love” they were witnessing. Emman, even in her “darkest moments,” always made space for others.

In the face of the silence left by Emman’s absence, Feli confirmed that her spirit was still profoundly present. She asserted that she still hears Emman’s “infectious laughter, chatter, and singing.” She still sees her walking in “stylish streetwear,” riding her “hoverboard,” and “dancing.” Feli even shared a deeply touching detail: she still smells Emman’s favorite perfume, Joe Malone, which Feli confessed to “stealing” from Emman’s room and was wearing at that very moment.

Feli ended her tribute with a profound quote from a pastor: “In his garden of grace, even broken trees bear fruit.” She knew Emman’s impact would live on in the lives she touched and in Feli’s own life, believing Emman would “guide her choices and voice.” This truth, Feli said, became clear the moment they lost her. Her final promise to her daughter was a declaration of eternal love: “Emman, you are my sunshine. You are my love. You are my everything and one day we will be together again. I love you.”

The eulogy was more than a final goodbye; it was a rallying cry for the kind of fierce, open-hearted living Emman Atienza exemplified. Her short life, marked by excessive kindness and radical honesty about her struggles, now serves as an indelible reminder that even in the deepest sorrow, there is a powerful, inspiring legacy waiting to be carried forward. The torch of kindness that Emman lit has now been passed to the many lives she touched, and her parents stand ready to lead the way.