Ising fought back her tears.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
With a heavy heart, Ising tied the trash bag and rushed outside to catch the garbage truck as it drove away.
That evening.
Doña Miranda was watching TV while getting a pedicure when the Grand Lotto results were announced. The jackpot prize: ₱200,450,000.00.
“That’s a huge amount of money,” she said casually while sipping her tea. “Who could be so lucky—”
The winning numbers appeared on screen:
08 – 15 – 22 – 05 – 10 – 30
Doña Miranda froze. Her teacup nearly slipped from her hand.
The numbers were familiar. Too familiar.
08 – her birthday (August)
15 – her husband’s birthday
22 – her youngest child’s birthday
05 – her eldest child’s birthday
10 – her wedding anniversary
30 – Ising’s age
Suddenly, she remembered what Ising had said that morning:
“Ma’am, I used your birthdays and anniversary as my numbers—as my way of thanking you.”
Doña Miranda turned pale. Her entire body went cold.
The ticket she had thrown away… the one she crumpled and buried in fish bones… was worth 200 million pesos.
“ISING!” she screamed.
Ising ran in from the kitchen.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“The trash earlier—the one I told you to throw away! Where is it?!” Doña Miranda demanded hysterically.
“You told me to give it to the garbage truck, Ma’am. I did this morning. It’s probably already at the dumpsite.”
“NO!!!”
Doña Miranda ran out of the house barefoot, not caring how she looked. She rushed to the street where the garbage truck had passed—but it was long gone.
Overwhelmed by regret, she collapsed onto the pavement, wanting the ground to swallow her whole.
“Two hundred million… I threw away… two hundred million…” she whispered in shock.
Ising approached her gently.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
Doña Miranda glared at her.
“You idiot! Why did you throw it away?! Why did you follow my order?!”
“You’re my employer, Ma’am,” Ising replied quietly.
Doña Miranda cried endlessly that night. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. All she could think about was the fortune she could have shared—if only she had been kind.
A week later, Ising asked for permission to leave.
“Ma’am, I’m resigning.”
“Why? Because of the ticket?” Doña Miranda sneered. “That’s gone! Move on! You were never lucky anyway!”
Ising smiled. She reached into the pocket of her old pants.
She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper—slightly stained with soy sauce and smelling faintly of fish, but the barcode and numbers were still clearly visible.
Doña Miranda’s eyes widened in horror.
“I-Ising… t-the ticket…”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Ising replied calmly. “When you told me to throw out the trash, I opened the bag again outside the gate and took it out. You said it was a waste of money—but I thought it would be a waste of my dream.”
“You mean… you have the ticket?!” Doña Miranda cried, suddenly changing her tone. “Ising! My dear! Let’s split it! Those birthday numbers are mine too!”
Ising shook her head and slung her bag over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. You said my dreams belonged in the trash. Good thing I know how to recycle.”
“Ising! Don’t leave! I’ll double your salary!”
But Ising didn’t look back.
She got into a taxi and headed straight to the lottery office to claim her prize.
Doña Miranda was left alone in her mansion, clutching the trash bin—
while her former maid walked away as a multimillionaire.
Weeks later, the news spread across the city.
Ising’s face appeared on television—not as a maid, but as the newest ₱200-million jackpot winner. She stood quietly in front of the cameras, wearing a simple blouse, her voice calm but steady.
“I didn’t win because I was lucky,” she said. “I won because I never stopped believing that my dreams were worth saving.”
With her winnings, Ising paid for her mother’s full medical treatment, bought a modest home, and set up a small foundation to help domestic workers and poor families start small businesses of their own. She never flaunted her wealth. She carried it with dignity—the kind that money could never buy.
As for Doña Miranda, her mansion remained standing, but something inside it had collapsed. Every time she passed the kitchen trash can, she was reminded that she had thrown away more than a lottery ticket. She had thrown away kindness, humility, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do good.
In the end, Ising gained freedom, purpose, and peace.
And Doña Miranda learned—too late—that true wealth is not decided by birth or status, but by how you treat the dreams of others when they are still small and fragile.