November 2021 arrived like a quiet storm, with cooler mornings, soft rains in the late afternoon, and the persistent reminder that another year was drawing to a close. In Carmela's hometown, the atmosphere was a mixture of cautious optimism and fatigue. The vaccine rollout had picked up pace, but the long shadow of the pandemic still lingered. Many families, like hers, had grown used to the rhythm of life shaped by restrictions, yet they held on to small joys and the routines that brought stability.
Carmela was in the thick of it all.
The command center she had established in the family sala was now a full-fledged home office. A glass whiteboard stood behind her desk, filled with timelines, metrics, and upcoming milestones. Sticky notes peppered the margins, written in her neat script. On her second monitor, the dashboard of KATALISTA Academy updated in real time, tracking new enrollees, class completion rates, and feedback from students all over the country.
The numbers were encouraging. Enrollment had doubled since October. They now had mentors in six provinces, including parts of Visayas and Mindanao. A group of local micro-entrepreneurs from Batangas had even requested a custom training module for digital product management.
Raziel had just wrapped up the latest UX update. "I integrated a language toggle and a voice reader," he told Carmela over their nightly call. "So people with visual impairments or low literacy can still access our content."
Carmela grinned, tired but thrilled. "That's brilliant. We should include a short testimonial video for the front page too. Let's record one this weekend?"
"With you in it?"
She laughed. "Fine. But only if you edit out my stutters."
They both chuckled, the warm kind that only grew out of familiarity and hours spent building something side-by-side.
Raziel, ever patient, had grown into her world without asking for the spotlight. And Carmela, once hesitant about romance, now found herself looking forward to his voice at the end of a long day.
---
Outside of work, her life had found a new rhythm. She woke up at 6 a.m., helped her mom prepare breakfast, did chores while listening to audiobooks, and watered the garden with her older brother in the afternoons. The money she had quietly invested from the hidden lotto winnings years ago remained untouched, safe in long-term stocks and early Bitcoin wallets. Her sister, the only one who knew about the secret, would occasionally send her reminders: "Don't splurge. Stay invisible. The less they know, the better."
And Carmela agreed. It wasn't deception. It was protection. Money could change people—and she wasn't ready to shift the dynamic of her family just yet.
Her oldest brother, now a teacher, had no idea his little sister had out-earned his annual salary in a single month. Her other brother, who managed their small sari-sari store and helped with the family farm, thought she was just another online worker trying to stay afloat.
And that was exactly how she wanted it.
"Your online jobs," her mom would say, half-proud, half-curious. "They really pay well?"
"Enough to help around," Carmela would reply with a smile.
---
One Sunday morning, she met with a barangay councilor under the guise of introducing a digital livelihood initiative. The councilor, a curious woman in her fifties named Aling Minda, peered at Carmela over her reading glasses.
"Ikaw lang ba talaga ang nagpapatakbo nitong kumpanya?"
(You're really the one running this company?)
Carmela nodded. "With a small team. But yes, ako po ang nag-umpisa."
(I started it with a small team, yes.)
"Mukhang malayo ang mararating mo, iha," Aling Minda said with a smile. "Kung lahat ng kabataan may ganyang sipag, aba eh baka wala nang magugutom."
(You'll go far, dear. If all young people had your drive, no one would go hungry.)
Carmela thanked her and handed over flyers for the upcoming digital training. It wasn't just about expansion now—it was about spreading the idea that people from rural areas could build futures online, from the comfort of their homes.
---
By mid-November, the Department of Education launched a new blended learning support initiative, and Carmela saw the opportunity immediately. She drafted a proposal within three days, offering KATALISTA Academy as a training partner for teachers needing tech upskilling.
"We already have the modules," she told Raziel. "It's just a matter of aligning them with the DepEd framework."
He nodded, impressed. "You really think we can get approved?"
"If we frame it right. This isn't about money. This is about capacity-building."
They spent nights perfecting the presentation. And when Carmela finally sent the email with the proposal, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Here we go."
Two weeks later, they got a response: a request for a meeting.
It wasn't a guarantee, but it was the door. And that was all Carmela needed.
---
On the personal side, things were evolving, too. During one video call, Raziel hesitated before speaking.
"Mel... would it be okay if I visited this Christmas? Just to see you. No expectations. Just... a few days."
Carmela's breath caught. A visit. In person. It had been years.
"If restrictions ease," she said slowly, smiling, "then yes. I'd like that. Very much."
The hope in his eyes mirrored her own. And though they changed the topic soon after, the thought lingered. For the first time, the possibility of real closeness didn't feel like a faraway dream.
---
By the last week of November, the air in the province had grown festive. Early parols hung from posts, and the church started preparing for Simbang Gabi. Despite the lingering uncertainty, people were choosing joy.
Carmela sat by the window one evening, sipping salabat and reviewing end-of-month reports. Her earnings for November alone could cover a year's worth of expenses for the whole family. And yet, she continued to live simply.
Because wealth was not her destination.
Impact was.
That night, she journaled under soft lamplight:
*My heart still races when I think about the future. But it's not fear. It's anticipation. I'm finally becoming who I was always meant to be. And this time, I'm doing it right.*
---
As December approached, Carmela looked back at the year. She had survived a pandemic, launched a business, made her first real steps in love, and redefined what success looked like.
And it was only the beginning.