EMPLOYEE FREAKS ABOUT DAILY “MYSTERY LUNCH BOX” HE RECEIVES AT THE OFFICE FROM AN UNKNOWN SENDER, BUT BROKE TO TEARS WHEN HE SEES CCTV FOOTAGE—THE OLD JANITRESS PUT IT IN PLACE

“Who put this here again?”

Marco asked irritably as he looked at a Tupperware container on his office desk. This is the tenth day in a row that someone has left food on his table during lunch breaks. No note, no name. Just warm food and rice.

“Dude, that could be your secret admirer! Eat it, you idiot!” Jeff shouted next to him while chewing on a burger from the fast food.

“Secret admirer? What if it’s poisoned? Or is it a drug?” Marco replied, pushing the lunch box away. “It’s scary. I don’t know if this stalker is obsessed with me.”

Marco is a typical corporate slave in Makati. Always busy, always tired, and always eating fast food or convenience store food because he doesn’t have time to cook. He’s thin and looks stressed. That’s why at first, he was happy with the free food—Adobo, Sinigang, Kaldereta—it really tasted like home-cooked food. But as time went on, it became creepy.

“I’ll just throw this away,” Marco decided. He picked up the Tupperware and was about to throw it in the trash when he noticed that the dish now was Pork Binagoongan. His favorite.

He stopped. How did the sender know his favorite?

“This is not right. I need to know who he is,” Marco whispered.

The next day, before lunch break, Marco set up a small hidden camera on the side of his monitor. He pointed it at his desk. Then, she left, pretending to buy coffee, but she just waited in the pantry to watch the live feed on her cellphone.

Five minutes passed. No one was there.

After a while, the door to the cubicle area opened. An old woman in a blue uniform entered. It was Nanay Ising, the janitor of their floor. She was carrying a mop and bucket.

Nanay Ising started cleaning. She wiped the floor, arranged the chairs. Marco thought she was just cleaning. But when Nanay Ising reached Marco’s desk, she stopped.

The old woman looked around to make sure no one was looking. Then, she slowly took out a familiar Tupperware from her eco bag. She placed it on Marco’s desk very carefully. Then, she stroked Marco’s picture frame that was on the desk, smiled sadly, and wiped away tears before continuing to mop.

Marco dropped his cellphone in shock. Is Nanay Ising?

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original story

Marco hurried back to the office. He caught up with Nanay Ising who was about to enter the Comfort Room to clean.

“Nanay Ising!” Marco called.

The old man stopped. He turned pale when he saw Marco holding the Tupperware. “S-Sir Marco… p-sorry… I’ll take that, I’ll throw it away…”

“Are you the one who gives this every day?” Marco asked, not angry but curious. “Why? What do you need from me?”

Nanay Ising bowed. Her hands were trembling, full of wrinkles and calluses from the person she was working with.

“No, Sir. I have no bad intentions,” the old man replied raspily. “I’m sorry if you were scared. I just wanted… I just wanted to feed you.”

“But why?” Marco asked.

Nanay Ising took a deep breath and looked straight at Marco. In the old man’s eyes, Marco saw a kind of sadness that penetrated his heart.

“Because Sir… my son looks exactly like you. Jay-jay.”

Marco was stunned.

“He’s been in Dubai for five years,” Nanay Ising said as tears flowed down her face. “At first, he would call. He would send messages. But for the last two years… he hasn’t. I can’t contact him anymore. I don’t know if he’s angry, or if something has happened to him, or if he’s forgotten about his mother.”

Nanay Ising wiped her face with the hem of her uniform.

“Every time I see you here in the office, thin, always tired, and eating something… I remember my son. I wonder, does he still eat well there? Does someone cook for him? Does he miss my Binagoongan?”

Mother Ising approached Marco, but immediately stopped as if embarrassed.

“That’s why I cook for you, Sir. Every time I see you finish the food, I feel better. It’s like… like I’ve finally fed my son. It’s like I’ve told him that I love him very much, even though he’s far away. I’m sorry, Sir Marco, an old man is just delusional.”

Nanay Ising was about to leave out of embarrassment, but Marco grabbed her arm.

Marco suddenly remembered his own mother in the province. How many months had it been since she last called? It must have been Christmas. She always said she was “busy.” It was always “next time.” He never thought that his mother might feel the same way—waiting, worrying, missing her.

“Nanay Ising,” Marco said, his voice cracking. “Don’t leave. Come eat with me.”

“Oh, Sir, that’s embarrassing. I’m just a janitor—”

“No,” Marco interrupted. He pulled up a chair. “I need someone to stay with me. And… I miss my mother’s cooking.”

That afternoon, in the middle of a busy office, an executive and a janitor shared a Tupperware from Binagoongan. They chatted about Jay-jay, and about Marco’s life.

After eating, Marco took out his cellphone. Not to check emails, but to dial a number he hadn’t called in a long time.

“Hello? Ma?” Marco greeted when the other line answered.

“Son! Marco! Did you get a call? Is there a problem?” his mother’s voice was clearly surprised and happy.

“Nothing, Ma,” Marco replied while looking at Nanay Ising who was happily clearing away their food. “I just wanted to say… I miss you. And thank you for everything. I’ll be home for the weekend, Ma. Will you cook me some Sinigang, please?”

The mystery of the lunch box has been solved. It didn’t come from a stalker, but from the heart of a mother full of love who has nothing to give. And because of this, a relationship was formed, and a relationship was repaired. Sometimes, all we need to remember the value of family is the taste of home-cooked food and the story of a stranger.