He was Don Roberto, the billionaire owner of The Grand Palazzo and five other luxury hotels across Asia.
Don Roberto looked at Kevin, his expression serious.
“Son,” he asked calmly, “where are you taking my car?”
“S-Sir…” Kevin stammered, trembling. “I-I was just going to park it in the… VIP slot…”
Don Roberto shook his head and pointed to the spot right in front of the main entrance—the place reserved for the most expensive cars.
“Put it back where it belongs,” he ordered.
Kevin turned pale. “R-right there? In front?”
Don Roberto walked over and gently patted the rusty hood of the old Toyota.
“Don’t ever look down on this car. This is my Lucky Car.”
He began to speak as everyone listened.
“Before I built the Palazzo, I used this car to deliver roast pigs and rice cakes. It was with me through hardship. It brought me to meetings that changed my life. It’s more valuable to me than every Ferrari in that parking lot.”
He turned to Kevin, who now looked ghostly white.
“You said it ruins the view? For me, this is the most beautiful view. Because it reminds me where I came from—something you seem to have forgotten.”
“I-I’m sorry, Sir! I won’t do it again!” Kevin cried.
“Ms. Cruz,” Don Roberto called.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Give this young man a new job. He seems too ‘high class’ to be a valet.”
“Where, Sir?”
“At the back. In the garbage disposal area. No views to ruin there. It suits his attitude.”
From that day on, Kevin sorted trash behind the hotel—
while Don Roberto’s old Toyota Corolla remained parked proudly at the entrance of The Grand Palazzo, polished, roped off with velvet, and admired as a symbol of success that never forgets its humble beginnings.
The driveway of The Grand Palazzo was never the same again.
Guests still arrived in gleaming supercars, but their eyes were always drawn to the old Toyota parked proudly at the front. It stood there as a quiet reminder that greatness is not measured by shine or price, but by the journey behind it.
Kevin, now working in silence at the back of the hotel, finally learned the lesson he once ignored—respect is not about what people own, but who they are. Each day, the sound of the old car’s engine echoed in his mind, humbling him more than any lecture ever could.
As for Don Roberto, he smiled every time he passed his Lucky Car, knowing that true success is not forgetting where you came from, but honoring it—no matter how rusty it may look to others.