Wish Upon a Stroke

A Spark of Courage

The email landed like a surprise package—a hefty donation from some fancy law firm. It said a big chunk of money was in a new account under my name, for "the advancement of social entrepreneurship in the Philippines." Anonymous donor, ha! Ang misteryoso naman!

My heart did a little jump. I reread the email a few times, letting the reality sink in. This was it. My chance.

"Grabe, totoo pala 'to!" I whispered, a mix of excitement and disbelief bubbling up.I called my parents right away. Mama nearly shrieked, "Anak?! Totoo ba yan?!" Papa, after a moment of stunned silence, let out a happy yell that echoed through our small house. Even Aya, usually engrossed in her third-grade workbook, looked up, wide-eyed.

"Are we rich now, Ate Liezl?" she asked, all innocent wonder. 

I laughed, pulling her into a hug. "Not yet, Aya. But we can help a lot of people. That's even better than being rich, right?"

Aya nodded, grinning.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. My family and a few close friends helped me scour Manila for the perfect spot for my social enterprise. I wanted a big, well-equipped place, easy for people to get to.

After days of searching, ang dami naming na-check! we found it: a huge, abandoned warehouse in Quezon City. It was dusty and falling apart, but I saw the potential. I could picture it—a lively place, filled with the sounds of sewing machines, keyboards clacking, and the delicious smells of cooking.

With the donation, we started the renovation. I hired local contractors and bought materials from nearby suppliers, making sure the project helped the community too. I poured over design plans, imagining bright, airy workshops, a modern computer lab, and a really nice kitchen.

I also started looking for staff—people who were passionate and shared my vision. I found experienced seamstresses, talented chefs, and tech-savvy instructors, all eager to help. But I also knew I needed more than just teachers. I needed people who understood the challenges faced by those who were struggling, people who were committed to creating a space of empowerment and opportunity.

As the renovation went on, I got more and more excited. I couldn't wait to open Bayanihan Enterprises—I named it that to honor the Filipino spirit of helping each other. I wanted it to be a place where people could come together, learn from each other, and build a stronger community.

One afternoon, while working on the curriculum for our "Threads of Hope" weaving program, I realized I needed expert advice. I wanted the trainees to learn traditional techniques but also create modern designs that would sell.

"Who should I ask?" I wondered, tapping my pen.

Then, it hit me! Professor Ramirez had mentioned a famous textile designer who was passionate about preserving Filipino crafts.

"Perfect!" I said, writing down a wish in my notebook:
I wish I could connect with a skilled and passionate textile designer who can mentor the trainees in the "Threads of Hope" program.

The next day? An email! From the designer I'd wished for! He'd heard about Bayanihan Enterprises and wanted to help! Ang galing!

With the curriculum finished and the staff ready, I started planning the grand opening. I invited community leaders, the media, and potential partners.

The day arrived, and that old warehouse was completely transformed. Colorful banners, happy chatter—it was buzzing with energy! I wore a Filipiniana, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

My speech flowed easily. I talked about my vision for Bayanihan Enterprises, its three core programs: "Threads of Hope," "TechSparks," and "Kusina ng Bayan."Threads of Hope: a weaving and textile design workshop that would empower women to create beautiful, sustainable products while preserving traditional Filipino craftsmanship.TechSparks: a technology program that would equip young people with the skills to thrive in the digital age, offering training in coding, web development, and digital marketingKusina ng Bayan: a culinary program that would provide aspiring chefs with the opportunity to learn from experienced professionals and showcase the rich flavors of Filipino cuisine.

The audience listened, captivated. The applause at the end was amazing! The opening was a huge success. The media wrote about us, community leaders showed their support, and our first trainees signed up, their faces full of hope.

Watching them, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was it—the beginning of the change I'd always hoped for. And with a bit of luck—and maybe a little magic from my notebook—I knew Bayanihan Enterprises would keep growing and shining, making a difference in the Philippines. But the real work was just beginning. I knew that I had a long road ahead, but I was determined to make my vision a reality.