A Child of faith, a town of believers

By Rjay Zuriaga Castor

For more than four centuries, the third-oldest image of the Santo Niño in the Philippines has anchored faith in Arevalo. Long before sunrise, devotees still make their way to its shrine—lighting candles, whispering prayers, and keeping alive a devotion shaped by time.

Across generations, families in Arevalo have come to know a faith shaped not only by tradition, but by a deeply personal relationship with the Holy Child they call protector, healer, and guide.

The Sto. Niño de Arevalo traces its roots to the founding of La Villa Rica de Arevalo, once the capital of the province of Oton under Spanish rule. Augustinian missionaries brought the image as they established the settlement, carrying with them a devotion already shaped by the miraculous narrative of the Sto. Niño de Cebu.

The Holy Child’s open arms and gentle expression resonated with the people, especially the poor. Missionaries preached a Christ who comes close—approachable, protective, and loving. Over generations, that image of nearness took root in Arevalo’s spiritual life.

Local tradition tells of a time when the town was threatened by a Moro raid. As the story goes, the image of the Sto. Niño was brought to the shoreline. Raiders reportedly saw a boy in a red cloak blocking their path, forcing them to retreat. Whether legend or lived memory, the story remains part of Arevalo’s collective faith — one retold not to prove, but to believe.

Devotees continue to speak of favors granted: healing from illness, children born after years of waiting, families spared from calamities. The image’s own survival is often cited as a sign of protection. During World War II, fires razed nearby structures, yet the flames mysteriously died down before reaching the convent. In the devastating 1948 Panay earthquake, which severely damaged the church, the Sto. Niño remained upright on His pedestal.

For the faithful, these are not coincidences. They are reminders of a presence that endures.

A second life, a second calling

For Diosdado Negolo, that presence became deeply personal.

Negolo, a resident of Sooc Project 2 in Arevalo, has been a caretaker at the Archdiocesan Shrine of Sto. Niño de Arevalo for nearly six years.

Before that, he volunteered quietly, offering his time while working at a gasoline station in Iloilo City. His formal employment came only after someone retired — but his devotion began much earlier.

In 2015, Negolo fell gravely ill. Diagnosed with tuberculous pneumonia and asthma, he spent 28 days confined in a hospital. At the time, he was serving as a volunteer at the nearby Sta. Cruz Chapel.

“I prayed for Him. He guided me,” Negolo recalled. “The Señor Sto. Niño gave me a second life.”

Today, he prays not for riches, but for longevity, family protection, and distance from illnesses. He calls his recovery a “second mission,” one that led him to fully commit his life to church service.

The gift of time

Margarita “Margie” Grandeza, offers a different kind of devotion — one built on time.

At 77, Grandeza is among the oldest- and longest-serving lay workers in the parish. Her devotion began when she was just 18 years old. Since then, weekends have almost always meant one place: the Sto. Niño de Arevalo church.

Even while working as a public school teacher, including years assigned in Guimaras, Grandeza made it a point to return to Iloilo City every weekend to serve. She retired in 2013, but her service never did.

“It’s through the inspiration of the Señor Sto. Niño that we worship, adore,” she said. “We ask for His help not only in difficult times but also in ordinary times. I can say He never fails to grant what is good for us.”

Grandeza admits she has little to offer materially. What she gives instead is time, effort, and unwavering dedication.

She continues to encourage others to serve, believing that her good health and strength at her age are blessings from the Sto. Niño she has honored all her life.

“The harvest is great, but the laborers are few.”

Faith on a church bench

Outside the church, on one of the benches fronting the shrine, sits 84-year-old Rolando Sapio. His bicycle rests beside him as he looks quietly into the distance.

A resident of Barangay Sta. Filomena in Arevalo, Sapio said his devotion to the Sto. Niño has given him long life and spared him from illness.

“Since then, I have had a good life,” he said. “He had always blessed me, and that’s why I am thankful — my body is still strong, and He gave me a long life.”

Before his retirement, Sapio worked as a kubrador—a collector who went from community to community gathering bets for jueteng, a small-town numbers game back in the day.

He said that through the grace of the Sto. Niño, he had maintained steady bettors, which allowed him to support and send all six of his children to school.

“My life was very poor before, but the Señor Sto. Niño had mercy on me because I devoted myself to Him.”

A faith that endures

More than an artifact of history, the Sto. Niño de Arevalo remains a living symbol of faith — carried not only by tradition, but by people whose lives continue to revolve around a small wooden image brought to Panay nearly 445 years ago.

From earthquakes and war to sickness, labor, and old age, the stories of Arevalo’s faithful echo a single truth passed down through generations: faith, when deeply rooted, endures.

And in Arevalo, that faith still looks like a Child — standing, blessing, and quietly watching over His people.