Today I was watching the March for Life with my daughter and after she went to sleep I was "flipping" ("clicking", "checking"... whatever word fits here) through pictures on facebook and the news about it and I saw someone that looks VERY familiar. This is a face I will never forget - and not in a bad way.
The story goes back to November 21, 2009. I was an adult leader in charge of a very small group of students at the National Catholic Youth Conference (NCYC). This was the last day of the conference and I wanted to partake in the sacrament of reconciliation before the big (AWESOME) closing mass, so after the last session of the day I headed over to where (I thought) all the priests were suppose to be. I found out that I was on the OPPOSITE side of the building than I was supposed to be, so I hustled over to where I was supposed to be only to discover that my lack of navigational skills placed me at the back of the line. And when I say I was at the back of the line, I WAS THE LAST PERSON in line. I called one of the other leaders to come get my group and take them to dinner and I would catch up with them later. Since my students were smart and had partaken in confession earlier in the day waiting for one of their sessions to start I didn't want to punish them by making them wait for me. I thought the line would go faster than it did and I waited for 90 minutes to have my confession heard. By this point I had 15 minutes to run down the Power and Light District (NCYC was in KC this year), find somewhere I could grab a very quick bite to eat, and somehow find my group at the spot we agreed we would meet. Well once I got to the spot we were going to meet I was VERY hungry and wanted to at least meet up with my group before going across the street to find some food. Well my group was NO WHERE to be found. (Side note: I am 5'0, so I am not a tall person which makes this more of a challenge). I must have looked like a little lost kid in Walmart because this (equally lost) priest asked me if he could help me. Well at this point I was exhausted, very hungry and my feet were hurting from walking for 3 days solid. I broke down crying. I explained I lost my group. I ached. And most of all I missed dinner because I was last in line for confession. I promise I must have sounded like the whiniest person on the planet because I just verbally exploded. Worst of all this wonderful God-fearing man was eating the most delightful smelling club sandwich and fries out of a to-go container. (One of my favorites!!) Knowing a little something about the food service business, I knew that this meal doesn't take long and I could possibly get one and still make it in the door in time for the closing ceremonies and mass I asked where he got it. He pointed to the bar across the street with a line half way down the block (Like almost every other joint at 645pm!!) I started walking across the street thinking I could get in quickly for a to-go order. I was told it would be at least 45 minutes before my food would be ready, so I left without food. Figuring I would just offer it up to Christ as a sacrifice I headed back to the huge crowd to once again look for my group. The priest saw me walking back over without a to-go container and summoned me. I explained that if I waited for food I wouldn't be able to have my hour of fasting prior to communion and I would get something after all the festivities (a minimum of 3 hours later). I think he knew desperation when he saw it. He had only ate half his sandwich and 3/4 of his fries. He offered them to me saying that no one should have to go hungry because of confession - I had chosen the greater good and should not be punished. I told him I wasn't going to take his food. He told me if I did not eat it he was going to throw it away and he hated wasting food when there were so many hungry people in the world. I told him he should eat it because he paid for it and there was no way what little he had eaten was enough to fill him up (he wasn't a short person by any stretch of the imagination). Well he told me he was done and it was all mine. After a few more rounds of "I can't take food away from a priest" he finally said, "don't you realize if I ever find which door I am supposed to be entering I am going to vest and feed you food from Heaven. You take food from a priest every time you attend mass." Well crap.... I was caught. I accepted his charitable offering and OH MAN DID IT TASTE AMAZING!! Hunger is the best seasoning! I tried to pay him for what I was consuming and he wouldn't take it. Stubborn priest! Since I had accidentally went in the wrong door the night before and ended up walking by the room the priests held their vestments in, I told him I knew where he was supposed to be and that he should follow me. As we walked to the other side of the building we got to talking. He was from the diocese of Helena, MT. He had been ordained a few years prior (something that was obvious from his youthful look - I actually was shocked at how long he had actually been a priest - 4 years. I thought he was NEWLY, and I mean only a few months ago ordained.) He was from the town outside where my husband and I had spent our honeymoon. His home parish was the same church we had attended while we were there. I kept gushing over how much I loved that town and my husband and I had talked about how awesome it would be to move there because we had fallen head over heels in love with the people, the town, the mountains, everything! When we finally got to the door he needed to be at, he looked at me and told me, "if you really want to repay me, pray for vocations in my diocese. We are really in a bind with limited numbers of priests." You know I never did ask his name (I copped out and just kept calling him Father and he kept answering to it!). I never did find my group until after the festivities. We met up at the hotel!
I think I saw him again today in a picture at the March for Life. He was surrounded by youth, nuns, and looked happy. I hope it was him.
So thank you Father - wherever you are these days. Thanks for answering your vocational call. Thank you for feeding me physically and spiritually that day. And most of all, know that I still pray for vocations in your diocese and all diocese and I am teaching my daughter to do the same. I think knowing that would make you smile.
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