Barring any unforeseen circumstances, Filipina migrant worker Mary Jane Veloso should be home by now from Indonesia, where she spent 14 precious years in prison.

There’s no place like home for the holidays, and no one knows this better than her whose predicament has been a case study of the ups, downs and bureaucratic limbo of international diplomacy.

The latest report, as we write this, is that she might be back in time to croon “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” from the comfort of her mother’s sala. A deal with Jakarta officials has seemingly paved the way for her return, marking the end of what can only be described as the most stressful “vacation” ever.

Veloso’s story began in 2010 when she was caught smuggling heroin into Indonesia — though her defense has always been that she was duped into becoming a drug mule by a heartless recruiter.

Since then, she’s been swinging between execution threats and postponements, like a piñata at a never-ending fiesta. The Veloso family, her legal team, and the entire Philippine government have made this a marathon event of pleading, pressuring and praying for clemency. For over a decade, Indonesia kept her in the death-row equivalent of “airport waiting lounge purgatory,” with her fate hanging in the balance.

But now it seems Mary Jane is finally heading back to the Philippines, not in a pine box, but alive and kicking. Jakarta’s sudden change of heart came after years of diplomatic overtures and perhaps a timely nudge from President Bongbong Marcos Jr. who, let’s face it, could use a headline like this to distract us from his latest governance slip-ups (hello, inflation, floods and GCash fiascos).

Whether the repatriation was a humanitarian gesture or a cleverly orchestrated political PR stunt, it doesn’t matter — Mary Jane is finally home for Noche Buena.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Filipinos love a good redemption arc, and Christmas is the ultimate backdrop for heartwarming homecomings. Imagine Mary Jane stepping off a plane at NAIA, her face aglow under the fluorescent lights, while a crowd of media folk and teary-eyed relatives swarm her like she’s a balikbayan box from abroad.

The Veloso family’s barangay would probably roll out a grand lechon feast, complete with karaoke and parlor games, to celebrate her return. And let’s be honest — there’s no better cure for a decade of near-death anxiety than belting out “My Way” on a Magic Sing.

But this story isn’t just about Mary Jane. It’s a poignant reflection of the plight of modern-day OFWs.

Thousands of Filipinos leave the country daily, desperate for a better life, only to end up entangled in exploitative systems or, worse, criminal syndicates.

Mary Jane’s saga is a grim reminder of the risks our kababayans take when they venture abroad in search of greener pastures — in her case, an illegal shipment of heroin.

Critics, of course, won’t be so quick to declare Mary Jane’s return a triumphant fairy tale. Questions linger about whether she was truly an innocent victim or a knowing accomplice. And then there’s the matter of whether her story sets a dangerous precedent — will traffickers see this as a sign that Filipinos caught abroad can always count on a free pass from their home government?

For her parents, who’ve endured years of anguish, it will be a Christmas miracle. For her children, it will be the first holiday they will spend with their mother outside the confines of a prison visitation booth.

And for the rest of us, it’s the kind of feel-good story we desperately need amid the chaos of the holiday rush and the ongoing high-end political drama.

e-mail:mannyangeles27@gmail.com