A boy from Hilongos, Leyte who claimed to have lost his childhood when his parents parted ways sought refuge in Manila’s harsh streets for around four years.
At 12 years old, he joined Manila’s horde of homeless, vagrants, street kids, mendicants - resigned that nothing good can come of him broken into smithereens by his own parents' heedless decision to live separate lives.
However, over a decade later, his story unfolds like a mind-blowing plot twist in a story. A major decision altered his direction, and challenged even his understanding of his own narrative.
The former street kid, Eugene dela Cruz, wrote a reflection on his graduation from the Ateneo de Manila University (Class of 2025) with a Bachelor’s Degree in Economics (Honors Program) and a specialization in Financial Economics, minor in Decision Science. Dela Cruz is a recipient of the Ateneo Alumni Scholars Association - Fr. William H. Kreutz, SJ Endowment Scholarship. He graduated senior high school from Hilongos National Vocational School in the Province of Leyte (Class of 2021).
Here is the essay he penned:
"I was not supposed to make it here.
"Not to Ateneo. Not to any graduation. Not even to this very day.
"At twelve, I ceased to be a child.
"I became a ghost in the city—roaming Metro Manila’s unforgiving streets, not from bravery, but because I had nowhere else to go.
"I begged for coins, rationed a single stale bread across three desperate meals, and found refuge wherever night fell, drenched beneath tricycles when rain poured, curled up in dark alleyways when it did not.
"Public restrooms became my sanctuary: where I washed my body, my clothes, and tried, vainly, to scrub away the shame.
"No one noticed when I vanished from school.
"No one asked where I had gone.
"And for the longest time, I stopped asking, too.
"Four years of my youth vanished, never to return. As the world raced on, I became invisible. Survival was not about dreaming; it was a daily battle to simply breathe.
"When a lifeline came, a chance to return to school, I almost turned away. I was behind, underprepared, haunted by memories I could not name. “Who am I,” I wondered, “to hope for a future?”
"Then, by some miracle, Ateneo saw beyond my tattered story and took a chance on someone like me.
"They did not see empty forms, just a child desperate for a second chance.
"They did not ask for polished essays or connections. They offered me something far more precious: belief.
"From that moment, I clung to hope with all I had.
"I choreographed festival dances to earn my next meal.
"I tutored strangers to afford rent.
"I walked into classrooms, weighed down by notebooks in one hand, invisible scars in the other.
"Some days, I trembled, convinced I did not belong beside my blockmates and coursemates who were nothing short of amazing. I worried my poverty would echo too loudly in those hallowed halls. But I stayed because, at the very least, the people that I have encountered throughout my Ateneo journey made me feel that I belong and said, “You matter.”
"I may not have a relative cheering from the stands. I may not have a home waiting at journey’s end. But I discovered a new family: The Office of Admission and Aid, who saw my potential when I could only see failure;
"the Ateneo Alumni Scholars Association, who held my hand through the darkest doubts;
"Scholars United, who reminded me I was never truly alone;
"Mentors. Friends. Classmates. Kind strangers. People who did not have to care but did;
"And most of all, a God who did not dwell in distant pews but knelt beside me in every flooded street, every cold restroom stall, every tear I could not stifle.
"You might not have a roaring stadium behind you. You might feel abandoned. But I hope you know this:
"You are seen by the ones who choose to stay.
"You are carried by love that never falters.
"You possess a strength no hardship can steal.
"Because that strength carried me past broken dreams, past every “no,” past every night I thought I could not survive, straight to this very moment.
"I was not meant to make it here, but by some grace, I did. And if you are still fighting, still breathing, still daring to hope, then perhaps, so will you.
POVERTY CAN BE A HINDRANCE
"Poverty can be a hindrance to success.
"Back then, I never thought of being able to go back to school, since I was busy thinking of ways to get by. Between stopping and pursuing, I chose to stop because I thought that was the only choice I have.
"I sustained my needs independently for several years by teaching dance routines whenever our school has an upcoming program, and by conducting tutorials for all the subjects. I finished my secondary education in 10 years. It may be four years late, but I am glad that I did not give up.
"At first, I thought that because I am a product of a broken family, I would not be able to reach this far in life. Some people even told me that what I experienced is actually what I deserve. Regardless of what I had experienced and my family’s situation, I never once saw myself as someone who is unworthy of love, care, respect and a better tomorrow. That is why I chose to love myself, to take care of myself, to respect myself, and to work hard to become my own light during the darkest of times.
"Life gives us a lot of reasons to stop, but we all just need one reason to go on, may it be to survive or to live.
"We are never alone, we are destined for greatness, we can be our own hero, we are never truly lost, and we are already outstanding by just merely going at our own pace.
"I may have had a horrible past, but it is okay, because with God by my side, I know that my future will be great — and I know that yours will be too.
"Poverty can be a hindrance to success, only if we let it be."""
