A UNIVERSITY GUARD WHO WAS ALWAYS MADE LAUGHTER BY A RICH STUDENT BECAUSE OF HIS OLD UNIFORM AND NOT KNOWING ENGLISH, BUT THE ENTIRE SCHOOL STOPPED WHEN HE CLIMBED THE ENTIRE STAGE ON GRADUATION DAY

At Royal Crown University, where the children of senators, businessmen, and artists study, Sandro Villafuerte is well-known. He is the star player of the basketball team, handsome, has an expensive car, and is the son of an influential congressman. In the eyes of many, he has it all—intelligence, money, and power. But behind his smile is a demeanor full of contempt.

Every day, before entering the campus, he deliberately humiliates Mang Berting, the old guard at the main gate. His uniform is old, his shoes are faded, and he clearly doesn’t speak English.

“Hey, guard!” Sandro shouted one morning. “Open it properly. You’re getting paid for it, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Mang Berting replied, with a forced smile. “Good morning.”

“Wow, English-Tagalog mix!” sneered Sandro as his friends laughed. “Just be a guard, don’t pretend to be educated.”

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original story

Mang Berting was quiet. He was used to it. For him, work was more important than pride. Sandro didn’t know that every time he left, Mang Berting would shake his head—not in anger, but in sadness.

Months passed with repeated bullying. One time, Sandro spilled coffee on Mang Berting’s uniform. Once, he accused him of stealing a watch. Even though the guard was proven innocent, Sandro never apologized.

Graduation Day arrived. The auditorium was full. The parents were happy. The students were in their gowns. Sandro was very confident—he was sure he had Latin honors.

Before the diplomas were distributed, the emcee announced a special guest.

“Before we proceed with the graduation, we invite to the stage someone who has served the university for a long time—not as an official, but as an example of loyalty and integrity.”

Everyone was surprised when Mang Berting’s name was called.

The entire auditorium applauded as the old guard slowly walked onto the stage. He was wearing a clean suit, simple but neat. His hand shook as he held the microphone.

“Good afternoon,” he began. Everyone was silent. “I am not used to speaking in front of large crowds. But the school administration has requested that I speak today—not to honor, but to share a lesson.”

Sandro looked around, uneasy.

“Every day, I open the gate of this university,” Mang Berting continued. “And every day, different people come in—some are kind, some are quiet, and some hurt with words. I do not respond to oppression because I believe that human dignity is not measured by position.”

He paused for a moment, then looked in Sandro’s direction.

“There is a student here who often belittles me. I will not name him,” he said calmly. “But I want him to know that I did not hate him. Instead, I prayed for him—that, one day, he would learn to respect others, regardless of their status in life.”

Sandro turned pale. It was as if cold water had been poured over him.

The University President stood up and spoke. “In response to the reports of bullying confirmed by the investigation, the disciplinary board has decided that Mr. Sandro Villafuerte will temporarily not be awarded his diploma today. He will be required to undergo a community service and ethics program before it can be awarded.”

The murmurs rang out. Sandro bowed his head. He could do nothing but cry.

After the ceremony, as the graduates rejoiced, Sandro approached Mang Berting outside the auditorium.

“Manong… I’m sorry,” he cried. “I was wrong. I didn’t treat you as a human being.”

Mang Berting smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “True strength, son, is knowing how to apologize and change. If you learn that now, you are invincible.”

As the sun set, Sandro was left thinking—not as the son of a powerful man, but as a man given a second chance. And Mang Berting, quietly returning to the gate, reopened the door—not just of the university, but of the conscience of a lost soul.