John, Age 13, Furlong, PA

The row in front of me was gone, and mine was next. It was a sunny afternoon, blindingly bright. The light shining in from the windows made the robes luminous. The red and white glowed into pink and gold. Nevertheless you could see dark clouds moving in, fast and mellifluous as they sliced through the sky.

The names inscribed on the robes were difficult to delineate, for I couldn’t see them from where I was seated. I looked down at my robe to see the name “Nicholas” printed in big capital letters. I knew what it meant; at least I hoped I did.

Soon the person next to me, a girl with black hair about my age and height, moved into a long line of the robed people. I did the same. As I joined the line, I met my grandfather, a stiff and bald figure with a shiny tan and black hair around the sides of his head, making a gripping tool for his tan circular glasses. Feeling nervous, I looked back to see my mom waving, a bright and positive face. She was smiling, as was everyone in the building. It was a happy day, especially for me.

Soon after I got a view of what was happening. I saw an old man with a wrinkled face, a red and white robe and a large diamond shaped white hat on his head. The loved ones behind the robed people put a hand on their chooser’s head and he was saying words which were not very easy to hear from my point in the line. I tried to imagine what he was saying but got lost in the act.

Now I was at the front of the line, the lake of a long river, and I gently knelt down, bowed my head, and folded my hands as I felt the touch of my grandfather’s firm, stiff hand. Then the old man started to talk. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I somehow knew what he was talking about. I began to feel secure, an enigmatic sense of security. When he was finished, I said goodbye to my grandfather and walked back to my smooth and wooden seat, filled with joy as I scooted quickly across the row.

When the mass was dismissed, I rejoined my family and we exited the church. All around people were being congratulated by friends and family as I was. I was officially confirmed into the Catholic Church. I was filled with honor as I was called to carry out a holy life for the rest of my time. What some people may call the end of CCD, I call a receiving of an onus for life, and this is one I intend to carry out.

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