Every day of the campaign seemed to deepen Mayor Andy's connection with his town. In the eyes of his supporters, he wasn't just another politician campaigning for votes, he was a son of the town coming home.
That day, our stops were Barangay San Juan and Barangay Sto. Niño.
It might have seemed like an ordinary day to others, but for us, it was another chapter we'd never forget.
We started early in Barangay San Juan.
As soon as we stepped out of the vehicle, we felt the warm welcome. It was as if everyone had agreed: no house was undecorated. There were red flags, cloth, balloons, even plant pots were wrapped in red ribbons.
At every corner, there was water, snacks, and bread waiting. Some people were quiet but you could see the happiness in their eyes. They didn't have to shout their support; their presence said enough, waiting, smiling, and open-hearted.
One scene i won't forget was of a little girl holding a piece of paper with "Mayor Andy!" written on it. When the mayor got close, she handed it to him and said:
"Mayor, our school project was about heroes. I chose you."
Mayor smiled, knelt down, and hugged her. It was like all his exhaustion disappeared in that moment.
Behind every clap and cheer were eyes remembering all the times he never left them, the projects he fought for, the pleas he listened to.
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From San Juan, we headed straight to Barangay Sto. Niño. Even before we reached the center, we noticed red balloons tied to kids' heads and tarpaulins carried by mothers.
In one corner, a group of young people waited, some holding red balloons, chanting over and over:
"Andy! Andy! Andy!"
As soon as Mayor approached, they hugged him and handed over a container of banana cake.
"Mayor, this is for you. I made it just for you," a woman whispered while hugging him tightly.
Mayor was visibly moved. He gently squeezed her hand and said:
"Thank you so much! Looks like i have my snack for later."
As we continued going house to house in Sto. Niño, we noticed one family quietly waiting outside their home.
They weren't loud, but their presence spoke volumes.
The father held a large tarpaulin of Mayor Andy, while his wife and children had red balloons. You could see their excitement, but also a deep emotion, as if they'd waited for this day for a long time.
Mayor went straight to them, shook their hands, and took photos with them.
That night, the covered court in Barangay Sto. Niño was packed. It wasn't just a meeting, it was proof of the community's commitment. The entire place was a sea of red—from balloons to banners to the clothes everyone wore.
People chanted:
"MAYOR ANDY! MAYOR ANDY! BRING BACK THE RED!"
He was welcomed by women placing garlands around his neck, while others couldn't help but hug him in the middle of the path. He was treated like a celebrity, but what really struck you was that it wasn't about fame, it was genuine affection.
Before going up the stage, he walked all around the court, greeting and hugging the elderly, chatting with them.
When he finally spoke, the cheering stopped. Everyone listened carefully.
"Sto. Niño… I don't know how i can repay the love you've shown me today. But one thing is certain, I will never forget this. And if you choose me again, it won't just be a duty. It will be a promise, to put you first, to serve you, and to never leave you behind."
People were in tears. Some just sat there quietly, watching him, as if making sure he really meant what he was saying.
As other campaigns got bigger with posters and tarpaulins, Mayor Andy's campaign felt even stronger, not because of the materials, but because every house, every heart had its own story of gratitude, of returning, and of hope.
In Barangay San Juan and Sto. Niño, the embrace of an elder, the banana cake from a young supporter, and the red balloons everywhere weren't just small details.
They were proof of a love that couldn't be bought, a commitment that couldn't be broken, and a trust that wouldn't fade.
As we left the covered court under the glow of red lights, I heard an elderly voice behind me say:
"Mayor Andy, if it's the heart that counts, you've already won."
And that's when I realized, real victory isn't seen on election day alone. It's seen on days like this, when the heart of the community speaks for itself.