The surroundings were quiet in Loida’s small rented apartment in Novaliches. The raindrops on the tin roof were audible, but her chest pounded even louder as she patiently kneaded the last batch of flour. Loida is a struggling single parent who relies solely on selling home-baked ensaymada and ube cheese pandesal on Facebook to support her three children.

Since her husband left her three years ago, she has been shouldering the burden of responsibility alone. Due to the successive price hikes of commodities—from butter, sugar, to eggs—she often earns just enough for their daily meals. Nothing extra, and sometimes even less.

So when she received a private message yesterday from someone named “Sweetie Pie” who ordered fifty large boxes of premium ensaymada—worth a total of twenty thousand pesos—she almost jumped for joy and cried tears of gratitude. The deal was for Cash on Delivery (COD). Loida was a little hesitant at first because it was a huge amount and she might be a victim of fraud, but the buyer quickly sent a photo of a valid ID and exact address to a popular and exclusive subdivision in Alabang.

He even assured her that there would be an additional two thousand bonus if the delivery was made early. For Loida, this was the only answer to the approaching deadline for electricity, water bills, and especially the overdue tuition fee of her eldest child in high school.

To raise the necessary capital for the ingredients and packaging, Loida swallowed her pride and borrowed five thousand from her brave neighbor who offered to lend money at a high interest rate. She didn’t sleep or even rest all night. She kept mixing, letting the dough rise, and watching over her small oven. Her whole being smelled of butter, sweet sugar, and grilled cheese when she finally packed and tied the last box the next morning.

Carrying huge and heavy paper bags that were almost as big as her, she patiently rode two jeepneys and a crowded bus before finally reaching the large, high gates of the said subdivision. Fortunately, she was allowed to enter by a strict guard when she showed the screenshot of her conversation with “Sweetie Pie”.

While walking through the wide and clean streets surrounded by huge trees and towering mansions with different architectural designs, Loida couldn’t help but daydream. She hoped that one day, through her efforts, her children would also experience this kind of comfort, away from their cramped alleys.

She stopped in front of Lot 44, Block 8. A huge house with a high gate made of iron and seemingly mixed with gold. She carefully rang the doorbell. A moment later, the small door of the gate opened and an elderly woman wearing an elegant daster came out. Her face looked brave, formal, and stern. A maid carrying a duster followed behind her.

“What do they need from us?” the old woman asked sharply and quickly.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Loida, the online seller on Facebook. The order for fifty boxes of premium ensaymada is addressed to ma’am Sweetie Pie. The total is twenty thousand pesos including the delivery fee,” Loida greeted politely, her exhaustion evident but a big smile on her lips because of the hope that her money problems would be over.

The old woman’s thick eyebrows crossed. “Sweetie Pie? There’s no Sweetie Pie living here in my house. And we don’t order that much bread online. Maybe you’re just going to the wrong place.”

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original story

Loida’s whole world collapsed. She felt her hands quickly grow cold and bitter tears slowly form in her eyes. “P-but ma’am… here’s the address she gave me. This is the ID she sent, as well as the picture of your house from the outside. I even borrowed a large amount of money to build this.”

She trembled and almost dropped her old cellphone as she took it out to show her Facebook profile and the long chat she had with the buyer. “Is this a scam? Is it really a fake booking? My God, how are the kids going to eat tonight…”

The old man reached for Loida’s broken cellphone with annoyance and a mixture of surprise to see who dared to use their private address. But when his sharp gaze landed on the profile picture of the so-called “Sweetie Pie,” his eyes suddenly widened as if he had seen a ghost. His calm face was suddenly replaced by a shudder and intense anger that made his cheeks red.

“Manang Linda!” the old man called loudly to the maid, his voice shaking with extreme annoyance. “Call Beatrice to her room upstairs. Right now! Tell her I’ll break all her expensive make-up and cut off her internet if she doesn’t come down in five seconds!”

Just a few moments later, a sixteen-year-old girl quickly came downstairs, frowning, scratching her head, and still wearing silk pajamas. “What’s that, Mommy? It’s so early in the morning, you’re yelling again!”

“Are you the shameless Sweetie Pie on Facebook?!” the mother shouted angrily, holding Loida’s cellphone up close to the shocked daughter’s face.

The girl suddenly turned pale, as if she had run out of blood. She clearly didn’t expect the online seller she had tripped over to arrive at their own door. “How many times have I told you to stop your shameless fake booking prank for views on your Tiktok?! You’re making a joke and a playground of the honor and livelihood of people who are suffering with dignity!”

The frightened girl could do nothing but bow her head and cry when she realized the extreme shame and severity of what she had done. The old man turned to Loida, the anger on his face quickly replaced with deep pity and sincere shame.

“I’m sorry for what happened, Loida. I’m the one who apologizes for the arrogance and lack of manners of my daughter,” the old man said gently and shyly. He grabbed his expensive leather bag that was on the small table on the veranda and quickly took out several bundles of new money.

“Here, fifty thousand pesos. That’s payment for all your ensaymada, your fare, and the trouble and inconvenience my son has caused you. And you,” she sharply turned to her crying son, “will carry these paper bags inside one by one. You will sell all these ensaymada to our rich friends and neighbors here in the subdivision. You will not be able to leave the house and you will have no allowance for the whole year until you return that fifty thousand to me!”

Loida could not believe the unexpected turn of events. From the intense fear, grief, and nervousness that she was already deep in debt, it was replaced by an overflowing and uncontrollable joy. She returned home with fifty thousand pesos, more than she had expected, enough to pay off the debt, her son’s long-overdue tuition, and with a large surplus to start her own bakery.