Có thể là hình ảnh về 2 người

In the heart of Metro Manila, hidden beneath the shadows of overpasses and the noise of busy streets, lives a man who redefines resilience every day.

Tatay Rey Paraon was born with a rare birth condition—half a body, no legs, and no access to early medical treatment. Growing up, he was ridiculed, ignored, and told by many that he would never survive, let alone build a family. But he refused to listen.

Now in his late 50s, Tatay Rey spends his days near the Baliwag Terminal in Cubao. No begging. No drama. Just pure effort. He sells whatever he can, accepts whatever is given, and prays that his small daily earnings can help feed his family.

“Minsan walang kumakain sa amin. Pero okay lang, basta may pang-gatas man lang apo ko,” he says, smiling with dignity.

But behind the smile is pain. Tatay Rey has no wheelchair. He drags his body—literally—through concrete sidewalks to find a safe spot. He battles heat, rain, and humiliation daily. And yet, not once has he asked the government for pity. He only asks people to see him.

His story gained slight traction online when concerned citizens began posting about him. But the help remains scarce, and the spotlight, as quickly as it appeared, began to fade.

The Unspoken Hero of Cubao

What makes Tatay Rey’s story so powerful is not just the adversity he faces, but the grace with which he faces it. He is living proof that strength is not about muscles or status. It’s about waking up each day with nothing—and still showing up for your family.

He has two grown children who also struggle financially. He doesn’t blame them. Instead, he hopes that one day his grandchildren won’t have to endure the same pain he did.
He dreams of a small store, a permanent wheelchair, and a roof that won’t leak when it rains.

But above all, he dreams that someone—anyone—will stop long enough to care.


What You Can Do

If you pass by EDSA cor. Aurora Blvd., near the Baliwag Terminal in Cubao, look for Tatay Rey. Even just ₱10, a bottle of water, or a kind word means more to him than you can imagine.

“I’m not asking for much. Just enough to make it through one more day,” he says softly.

And maybe—just maybe—if we stop ignoring these quiet heroes, the world will be a little more human again.