In every place we reached, there was a strange flutter in the chest.
As if the very heart of the town pulsed in rhythm with our steps.
And on that day, in Barangay Castillo, I once again witnessed how a leader is not just followed— but awaited, embraced, and deeply loved.
It wasn't the first caucus, but something felt different.
Even before our vehicle came to a full stop, I could already feel the fire in the air—
the silent, stirring intensity in the people's eyes.
This wasn't mere excitement;
it was anticipation mixed with trust and unwavering faith.
As the door opened, cheers burst forth.
It felt like stepping into a festival you didn't plan to attend—
only to realize you were the guest of honor.
There stood Mayor Andy,
wholehearted and proud,
greeted not just with applause,
but with pure affection.
"Mayor Andy!"
"Thank you for not abandoning us during the pandemic!"
"Mayor, this is my daughter—you helped her through your scholarship program!"
"We're behind you, no matter what happens!"
I didn't have to say a word.
I stood quietly in one corner of the stage,
watching.
But inside me, a loud voice rose—
the voice of awe,
of being stirred,
a silent praise for how deeply this man was loved by his people.
One by one, the residents stood to speak.
No rehearsals. No fear.
They spoke in their own language, with their own emotions—
sharing stories born of real life.
"My son almost dropped out of school… but because of the program Mayor Andy fought for, he graduated."
"When the typhoon came, it wasn't the cameras that arrived first—it was Team Anjo. That's when we knew."
"He never boasted. He just worked. Quietly, constantly. That's why we love him."
The stage had no props, no theatrics—
just the pure sincerity of people who were never forced to hope.
They were there, not for rice, not for promises,
but for the memory of service that touched their lives and left meaning behind.
And as night deepened and the air turned cold,
one thing remained warm: the people's welcome.
In every hand that reached out to Mayor Andy,
in every pair of eyes that never stopped following him,
I knew another page had been written in the story of his service.
Amid the applause, Mayor Andy took the mic once more.
The crowd fell silent—
not out of command,
but out of respect.
"I am not the hero here," he said softly.
"You are.
You who never let go.
You who continue to believe.
And tonight, I am honored to introduce someone who stands with us in this service—a true ally in genuine governance: Governor Max Roxas."
The Governor was met with a mix of warmth and reverence.
He didn't speak for long,
but every word he uttered carried weight.
He was a leader who didn't walk alone—
he walked with those he believed to be honest and true.
As he spoke, I saw in the people's eyes the very reason we were here:
Not for politics.
But for love.
Love for service.
Love for country.
Love for each other.
And in Barangay Castillo,
that trust had a name:
Andy David Lacson.
The Father of the Town.
The leader who never left the hearts of his people.