

October 10, 2025
Project E-Care: Sharing a Shelter of Compassion in the Philippines
The morning air in Antipolo still carried the faint chill of dawn as ECLARO’s Project E-Care team gathered once again with a quiet sense of purpose. We were headed to Kanlungan ni Maria (Maria’s Shelter), a sanctuary tucked into the uptown streets of this city just outside Manila, and that chill would soon be replaced by a warmth that can only come from connecting with others.
The planning had started weeks earlier, and anticipation among the volunteers had been growing with each day. Supplies arrived thoughtfully packed: prizes for games, pantry staples as small tokens of thoughtfulness and lunch packets enough for residents, staff and volunteers. These choices weren’t grand gestures. They were the kind that signal, simply, “We’ve come to listen as much as to bring.”
Founded from a “desire to care for the elderly and marginalized sectors of society,” Kanlungan ni Maria provides a “home to the poor, abandoned, neglected, homeless, and sick elderly living in community” in this part of the Philippines. For nearly two decades, this home has offered more than just walls and meals to the abandoned and overlooked—elderly men and women who arrive with little but the weight of years behind them. Here, basic needs meet something deeper: the steady rhythm of care, conversations that linger and a reminder that home isn’t just a place but a feeling, rebuilt one shared glance at a time.
As the Project E-Care team stepped into the gathering hall, the residents greeted them with song—“Welcome” first, their voices steady despite the years, then a heartfelt “Thank You” that seemed to echo off the walls. It set the tone: not a performance, but an invitation. Soon, laughter broke through as everyone dove into interactive games, the cards shuffled and markers passed hand to hand.
ECLARO’s Liezel Amorsolo, who’s been with Project E-Care for three years, watched it unfold with a smile. “The game BINGO is my favorite activity,” she shared later, “and I believe it’s the one the elderly enjoy the most.”
Karaoke followed, turning the hall into a makeshift stage where favorites from decades past filled the space. But it was the quieter exchanges that lingered. Michelle Santos, on her first outing with the team, just three months into her time at ECLARO, found herself drawing closer to a few residents. “I had the chance to speak with several of the elderly,” she recalled, “and many expressed genuine happiness at being remembered and visited. They appreciated that we took time out of our rest day to travel and spend time with them.”
One conversation, in particular, stood out, as Michelle posed simple questions. “What do you miss the most?” and “What advice would you give young people like us?” The answers came raw and unfiltered, laced with conviction and in some cases even perhaps a trace of what might have been regret.
“Choose your spouse wisely,” one said. “Always trust in the Lord,” offered another. “Study hard, work hard, do not forget to share blessings to others.”
Our volunteers found echoes of advice she’d heard from grandparents long gone, the same steady counsel, “as if they all picked passages from the same book,” making it feel timeless, unshakeable.
Liezel nodded along, her own heart catching on a moment with Nanay Elisa. “I’ll always remember what she said: ‘Be kind to yourself and to the people who love you.’”
These weren’t polished wisdoms, they were the kind forged in quiet endurance, delivered with eyes that had seen enough to know what’s essential. The room felt fuller then, the air humming with that rare ease where generations overlap without effort.
Not every moment bridged so seamlessly. Michelle noticed one gentleman holding back, seated quietly at the rear, waving off gentle invitations to join. The home’s social worker explained he was the youngest resident, the newest arrival—still navigating the ache of adjustment in a place defined by abandonment. “His quiet presence spoke volumes,” Michelle reflected. “Therefore, I did not push him to engage. It is important that we respect their boundaries.” By the visit’s close, though, he offered a wave and a faint smile—a small arc, but one that hinted at possibility.
In talking with a caretaker later, the day’s ripple came into sharper focus. Most residents see few visitors, he explained—days blending into one another until an event like this pulls them into the hall, mobility aiding or not, even just to sit among others. “Every time there are institutions that take time to visit,” he said, “they look forward to it.”
For some, family ties have frayed or vanished entirely. Liezel put it plainly. “Some of the seniors no longer have family or have been left on their own, so activities like this, even something as simple as a visit, can help ease their loneliness and bring them joy.”
The simple act of showing up for others. “This visit aligns with ECLARO’s mission, because giving back and showing empathy to people and communities is at the heart of Project E-Care,” Liezel added. And the feelings of connection, and more, that the exchanges stirred in everyone during this visit will remain. Liezel came away with a sharpened gratitude for the small anchors in her own life. “I learned to be grateful even with small things,” she said.
Looking ahead, both Liezel and Michelle offered words shaped by the day. Liezel’s call is direct, urgent even: “If you ever get the chance to visit facilities that care for abandoned elders, do it! Appreciate our seniors, honor those who came before us, show them love—they are the living proof that life is a continuous battle and that no matter how hard or lonely it gets, you must keep going."
Michelle echoes with a gentler nudge. “Be there not for the cookie points but to genuinely want to be present. As much as we are helping them, they might be helping us, too—healing tiny cracks in our souls caused by time lost with our parents and/or grandparents. I encourage future volunteers to share your time and care with those who long for it, knowing they may have only a little time left. Your presence could mean more than you realize.”