On a cold morning in Davao City, Mang Lando sat on the edge of the sidewalk near Roxas Avenue, hugging his old bag full of cardboard and some leftover bread he had salvaged from the trash the night before. He had been homeless for almost five years after their house in Compostela burned down. Since then, he had no family and no direction in life — until that day.
As people rushed by, he noticed a black wallet fall from a man who quickly got into his car. Mang Lando ran for the wallet, but before he could return it, the vehicle had already driven away.
He sat back down on the side of the road, holding the expensive wallet. He opened it — it contained ₱25,000, several credit cards, and an ID with the name “Marco Villanueva.”
He stared at the money, and for a few seconds, his heart pounded.
“If I take this, maybe I can eat for a week… maybe I can even rent a place to sleep,” he whispered to himself.
But he immediately closed his eyes. “This is not mine.”
He stood up and walked toward the nearest police station on San Pedro Street. He showed the wallet to the desk officer and left it, signing the report. He left without asking for anything in return, not even knowing if it would reach the owner.
Meanwhile, Marco, a 35-year-old businessman in Davao who owned a furniture shop in Matina, was nearly frantic when he realized his wallet was missing. Everything was in there—money, ID, and most importantly, the small photo of his late wife.
A few hours later, the police called. “Sir, someone returned your wallet. A man named Lando.”
He quickly went to the precinct. When he arrived, the police showed him the wallet, complete, nothing missing, even the photo of his wife was still there.
“Where is he?” Marco asked.
“He said he didn’t want to bother you, Sir, so he left right away.”
Marco was restless. For several days, he searched for Mang Lando in the same corner where the police had seen him. Finally, he found him sleeping under the bridge in Bankerohan, hugging his old bag.
He approached and gently woke the old man.
“Sir, are you Lando?”
Mang Lando was startled, looked up, and then smiled. “Ah… yes, Sir. You’re the one who lost the wallet, right? I apologize if I got your wallet dirty, my hands were a bit greasy.”
Marco smiled. “You don’t know how important that wallet was to me. Not just because of the money, but because of the photo of my deceased wife.”
Mang Lando nodded. “The important thing is that I returned it. Money can be replaced. But a picture, no.”
Marco was silent for a moment, then pulled out an envelope. “I know you didn’t ask for it, but I want to thank you. Not just for what you did, but for the kindness you showed.”
Mang Lando hesitated to accept it, but Marco insisted. “This is not a bribe, Manong. This is gratitude and the beginning of your new life.”
The next day, Marco brought Lando to his small furniture shop in Matina. “If you want, Manong, you can work here. You’ll have free lodging and food.”
Lando tearfully nodded. “Sir Marco, I don’t know how to thank you.”
Marco smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. I am just returning the kindness you showed me.”
After a few months, Mang Lando became vibrant. His health improved, he wore a proper uniform, and he was often seen teaching the younger workers how to be honest in their work.
Every time Marco passed by, he smiled. “Manong, you’re like a father to me here,” he joked once.
Lando replied, “And you, like a son I’ve long been looking for.”
One morning, while they were having coffee together in front of the shop, Marco said, “Manong, I want to name the new branch of the shop after you. ‘LANDO’S HANDMADE FURNITURE.’”
Mang Lando clutched his chest, tears welling up. “Sir Marco… I didn’t know that a simple act of returning a wallet could bring about such great kindness.”
Marco smiled. “Sometimes, a small kindness is all it takes to change two lives.”
And from then on, Mang Lando never slept on the streets again. Instead, every night he slept in the small but comfortable room above their shop in Davao, embracing a new life — and a heart full of gratitude.