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Being raised Catholic was never too difficult. Before even having the ability to comprehend sentences, I was baptized into the Catholic faith. By the time I was five years old, I was enrolled at St. Thomas the Apostle School in Delmar, where I would continue my education through eighth grade.

By kindergarten, I was reciting the Lord's Prayer along with my classmates, unaware of what half the words meant. In second grade, I prepared to receive my First Communion, learning about standing until the priest invites us to sit and the proper way to fold my hands while walking up the aisle. By the sixth grade, I could memorize the books of the Old Testament in order: "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth...."

In ninth grade, I attended the National Catholic Youth Conference with my friends. We sang songs and went to workshops that all inspired me immensely. I continued to grow in faith when I joined the North Country Mission of Hope two years in a row on February mission trips to Nicaragua. These experiences gave me faith in the good and hope of all people, and made a "dent" in me that has shaped me into who I am today.

But the last couple years of my life were slightly different than the first 18. For the first time, I began asking myself, "Why am I Catholic?" I attend Providence College in Rhode Island, and, although I continued to go to Mass at college and became involved in Habitat for Humanity and other volunteer work, I began questioning the point of my faith and that of the thousands of people I'd met through my experiences.

Why do we believe in something that science contradicts, I wondered? Why do we devote our time and lives to something we cannot see? And why do the people who suffer the most still look to God, who seems to have abandoned them?

These questions filled my mind, and no one I asked seemed to have an answer other than, "You just have to believe; that's what faith is." That answer was not good enough for me, so I put my faith on the back burner.

It was not until my second semester of junior year that I was answered. In January, I flew thousands of miles across the Atlantic Ocean to the heart of Catholicism.

My choice to study abroad for a semester in Rome, Italy, was not primarily for the theology program I would be attending, but more for the pasta, pizza and gelato. I never thought that the questions for which I had desperately desired answers would be answered.

The day of what I call my "epiphany" was a beautiful Wednesday in St. Peter's Square at the Vatican. My teacher had arranged for my class to attend the papal audience.

Although "Papa Francisco" spoke in a foreign language, I was able to understand when he read off a list of every location and parish that had made the pilgrimage that day to the Vatican. From every corner of the world, people had made journeyed to the heart of the Catholic faith, as they had been doing for centuries. From England to Africa to South America, and even a personal shout-out to Providence College -- all were welcomed personally by the pope.

Hundreds of us stood together, complete strangers, but united by our faith. It all made sense now. I learned that the Catholic faith is not about seeing, but feeling. The feeling of comfort and joy I had standing amongst hundreds of strangers from all corners of the globe was my faith.

Finding common ground with people who don't even share a common language and striving to reach my hand out to others in need is what my faith has taught me. My Catholic faith provides a sense of unity, despite all other differences, that gives me strength.

This is the answer to my "why."

(Haley is a parishioner of St. Thomas the Apostle Church in Delmar.)[[In-content Ad]]

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