Religion has been a huge part of my life since what seems like my first minutes on earth. When my parents were growing up they went to church every Sunday and decided they’d like to pass that tradition down to me. So when I was just nine months old I was baptized during the Easter Vigil mass at Saint Benedict in Chicago, Illinois. It was a beautiful mass, not that I would know, I was asleep the whole time. Not realizing it was actually something important. But that’s not what made that night memorable, my dad who was raised in the Methodist church was being initiated into the Catholic church that night, as well. When I was born my Mom, who was raised Catholic, and Dad decided we would become one in the Catholic church. So on that April night my dad and I were both being welcomed into the Catholic church together.
Catholics are defined by there mission of spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ, administering sacraments and exercising charity. Catholics are led by the pope in Vatican City. Catholics are a denomination of Christians. Ever since I was baptized my family and I have become more and more involved in the Catholic church by the second. I’m at my church so much I literally consider it my second home. When I was little I went to a Catholic preschool in Columbus and then when we moved to Cleveland my parents started teaching PSR (Parish School of Religion) and now they are in charge of the whole 6-8 PSR at are church.
My parents have lead me into this religious lifestyle. We go to church every Sunday from 10:30-11:30 and then come back from 3:30-8:00, in other words on Sunday the church is the only place I actually see besides my homework. I mean I don’t mind basically living in the church because that’s what I’ve grown up doing and knowing. My church, Saint Gabriel’s in Concord Township is completely made of wood with some stained glass surrounding the perimeter. It looks like it could be in the middle of a quaint little forest in the middle of no where, but instead it’s off a busy street with cars going so fast they’re in a blur. My church smells like old people with a hint of a potpourri, but some how that makes you feel welcomed. It tastes like the body and blood we receive at communion, but personally I think the bread tastes like cardboard. But most importantly Saint Gabriel’s feels like my second home, filled with family, friends and strangers that always are willing to lend me a smile through the hardest times.
