Catholic · Parish church · Antipolo
Noah Santos
White & sage · April 2026 · 80 guests
“We counted the ninongs twice because we kept losing track.”
Ten in the morning, a hillside parish, and a baby in a gown his mother wore at the same age — let out at the sleeves by a tita who insisted on doing it by hand.
The counting problem
Fourteen ninongs and ninangs were invited. Nineteen arrived. Nobody was turned away, and the priest, who has seen this before, simply widened the semicircle and carried on.
The water
Noah objected loudly and briefly. His lolo, who had not held a baby in eleven years, took him afterward and did not give him back for the rest of the ceremony.
Lunch at the house
The reception was a twenty-minute drive down the hill: long tables in a garage, lechon at one end, pancit at the other, and a plastic tub of San Miguel that nobody admitted to refilling.
What the guests said
- “He cried at the water and laughed at the lechon. Correct priorities.” — Ninang Cecil
- “I have not seen my cousins in four years. We are booking the next one already.” — Tito Ramil
- “The gown is older than three of the ninongs.” — Lola Pacing
- “I got sent forty photos before I even got home.” — Ate Jhoy
What stayed
The last picture of the day is not the ceremony. It is Noah asleep on a folded tablecloth in the middle of the long table, ringed by paper plates, while the karaoke started up behind him.
The palette
The team
Noah’s parents ran the guest list, the ninong-and-ninang roster, and the lunch headcount from one Setnayan page — and every relative who came home with a phone full of photos had already been sent theirs.