One scorching afternoon in Quezon City, Maria — a frail, 35-year-old woman — suddenly collapsed at home.

The doctor said she was severely anemic and needed to be hospitalized for observation.

Her husband, Roberto, reacted coldly.
“Take care of that, I’m busy with work,” he said.

But the “work” he mentioned was actually preparing for a luxury trip to Europe with his girlfriend, Lara — a younger woman from his office — and her three-year-old child.

Roberto spent more than 400,000 pesos on the “family trip,” leaving behind his real wife and their eight-year-old daughter, Bea, with nothing.

In the hospital, Maria lay weak and pale, an IV in her arm.
Little Bea sat quietly in the hallway, clutching an empty milk carton.
The teacher kept calling to remind her mother to pay tuition, but Maria had only 500 pesos left. She had to borrow money from a neighbor to cover part of the fee.

Meanwhile, Roberto didn’t call once.

Back in Batangas, his mother — Lola Teresita — tried phoning him several times but got no answer. When she couldn’t reach Maria either, she felt uneasy and decided to take the next bus to Manila.

The scene that greeted her broke her heart.
Maria was lying alone in a hospital bed, weak and pale.
Bea sat on the floor nearby, sipping milk slowly from a half-empty box.

Teresita rushed forward.
“My God, Maria… what happened to you?”

Maria forced a faint smile.
“It’s nothing, Mama. I’m just tired. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be home.”

“Where’s Roberto? Why isn’t he here?”

Maria lowered her eyes.
“He said he was busy with work, Ma.”

But Bea, innocent and honest, looked up and said,
“That’s not true, Grandma. Papa went to Europe with Aunt Lara and Baby Bi. He said Mama and I should wait at home.”

That single sentence pierced Teresita’s heart like a knife.

That night, after feeding her granddaughter, she called home quietly.
“Mang Mario, send the three sacks of rice, a few chickens, and the land title to Manila tomorrow. I have something to take care of.”

The next morning, she went to the bank and withdrew 1.3 million pesos — her life savings for retirement.

She paid off all of Maria’s hospital bills and Bea’s one-year tuition in full.

Maria burst into tears and fell to her knees.
“Mama, please don’t! Save that money — it’s for you!”

But Teresita held her hands firmly.
“I’m old, hija. I don’t need much anymore. You and Bea are my true family. My son may have lost his way, but I know who truly loved him.”

Her voice grew steady, her eyes full of resolve.
“When Roberto comes back, I’ll show him what shame really means.”

Three weeks later, Roberto returned from Europe, laughing as he entered the house — until he froze.
His mother sat waiting in the living room with two neighbors and a barangay official.

She laid a folder of papers on the table.
“This is the title to the house. I’ve had your name removed. Maria is now the rightful owner. I’ve also given her my savings. You — get out. I no longer have a son like you.”

Roberto’s face turned pale.
“Ma… please… how could you do this to me?”

She met his gaze, her voice shaking but strong.
“Because you left your wife and child to suffer while you lived in luxury. If you still have any dignity, leave.”

Maria stood silently beside Bea, tears in her eyes as Teresita turned to her.

“Daughter, live well. Heaven protects those who love truly. In the end, only a kind heart remains.”

Outside, the sunlight spilled across the veranda, the wind rustling the bougainvillea vines.

For the first time in years, Maria felt peace — knowing that even in a world full of betrayal, there was still one person who stood by her like a true mother.