Making a monumental decision is hard enough, but making a life changing decision at the young age of sixteen is even more strenuous. Choosing a religion can be a difficult and onerous process, but choosing Catholicism this past year has been one of the best decisions I have ever made. After being in Catholic school since the sixth grade, I knew being baptized in the church was something I was interested in doing. Coming to my school definitely aided in my decision. Also, the March For Life trip in 2014, where I met Father Stephen, opened my eyes to the Sacraments I was missing out on; I took a few years to think about my faith and began taking RCIA classes the summer before senior year, which led me to a dimly lit church on Easter Vigil.

Being the cynosure of all eyes has never been my fortè, and receiving all of the sacraments of Christian initiation in front of the entire church definitely placed me in an intimidating spotlight. I arrived at the church forty-five minutes early, and the time it took to find a parking spot felt like a lifetime. As I walked up the steps of the church, my exuberant friend Maria greeted me with a warm hug to ease my anxiety, and we waited outside by the roaring fire. The mass began with a reading outside in the starry nighttime with only the moon and the flaming fire as a light. I was so nervous that I could feel my heart beating out of my chest as the priest read. We then shuffled up the steps of the church and returned to our pews for the real party to get started. I sat on the stiff wooden pew and flipped through the missalette. We had a total of nine readings to get through before the baptism even began. I took a faint sigh and prepared for the lengthy scriptures that were to come.

Time flew by, the readings were finished, and I approached the font to be baptized. I stood in front of the baptismal font looking down at my reflection in the water while my mother’s hand rested on my shoulder as she stood in as proxy for Maria’s parents, my Godparents. Father Stephen poured the freezing water on my head, and I sensed the liquid seeping into my hair and cleansing me. I felt renewed and free. As my mom handed me a warm and fuzzy towel to pat myself dry, the congregation burst into an enthusiastic applause. Baptism was only the beginning because next came confirmation. I moved in front of the altar and situated myself to face the crowd. My mom took her place on the step above me. Father asked me a series of questions, and I answered all of them with a simple “I do.” Then, he called me by my confirmation name, Gianna, dipped his thumb in the lovely smelling chrism oil, and did the sign of the cross on my forehead. Once again the applause arose, and I felt pure joy. I took my seat back in the pew and was in utter awe at how at peace I was. I was surrounded by those who love me and care about me, and I was thankful they were there to witness this moment in my life. I leaned to my left and hugged my grandma and then to the right to hug Maria. As the Liturgy of the Eucharist began, my nerves returned because this would be my first time receiving communion. Being newly baptized, I was first in line for communion, and I was scared to mess up because I had no one to watch before me in line. Granted, I had seen people receive communion thousands of times before, yet I was still terrified to do something wrong. I took a deep breath, reverenced, and received with no problem.

Afterwards, a wave of confusion and longing hit me, and I was unsure of how to feel as one of the most beautiful moments of my life was coming to a close. The crowd seemed to vanish into thin air, and I do not blame them because the time was nearly midnight. Father approached me with a wholesome smile and congratulated me for blossoming into the person I had become. The closed off and angry Falene he met four years earlier as a freshman was long gone. Pleased by my accomplishment, my family, Maria, and I made our way out of the church and off to celebrate. At the end of the night, I drove Maria back to Metairie. My Godparents, who just got home, made their way to my car to embrace me and express how proud they were of me. All in all, being welcomed into the Catholic church was an unsurpassable experience that I will remember for the rest of my life.