Paradoxically, the highlight of my day was found this morning during a very silent moment. I was sitting at a chair just near the altar at the Sanctuary. It was a brief 45 minutes, and I was in between two Masses. I was seated there while awaiting the arrival of the godparents of a baby I was about to baptise. So I sat there silently whilst waiting.
I know of teenagers who're in church because they're compelled to be there; I know of teenagers who love rowdy moments of what they call "Praise and Worship" (yup, those party-concert-type stuff); but I honestly hardly know several teenagers who find solace in quiet moments praying before the Blessed Sacrament. It's not that there are none, I'm sure; but they are few. Every glimpse I get of those like that excites me deeply.
God bless that brother. He has so encouraged my spirit. I know great things are in store in his life, because he's not a man dedicated to the following of the popular and the fashionable. He chooses to follow Christ the good old-fashioned way. And he will therefore find Christ like the saints of old did.
I'm not sure of his name, although I've greeted him a couple of times before during youth events. But I'm proud of him. Very proud. And I know Mother Church is too.