Beginnings
I had never seen so much snow. I struggled to avoid the drip of hot candle wax on my hands as we processed around the seminary grounds, re-living Mary and Joseph's search for an inn. I held a candle in one hand and the "Pidiendo Posada" song sheet in the other so I could join the choir singing verses like, Don’t be inhuman; Have mercy on us. The God of the heavens will reward you for it. As the song ended, we entered the seminary, lit only by candles. We said a prayer. A priest said, "Christ our King." Everyone responded, "Thy Kingdom Come." And the dining room burst with life. Waiters poured into the dining hall with platters stacked high with rack-of-lamb and pitchers brimming with strange, delicious drinks. My dad sat across from me. We had flown in together for the "Christmas Program" where Middle School students could test out seminary life. After our flight landed, we had driven the rest of the way in a top-down Mustang, singing every ...