Thanks, Mom, For Letting Me Go

In 1842, Fr. Edward Sorin, a young priest from France, was given 640 acres in Northern Indiana to start a school. In a letter to his superior, now Blessed Basil Moreau, he had the audacity to write:

“…This college cannot fail to succeed…Before long, it will develop on a large scale…It will be the most powerful means for good in this country.” (December 5th, 1842)

My friends say that I am a pretty sentimental guy, and I’ll easily admit to it. Today, the 16th of June, I celebrate a pretty special anniversary. Exactly six years ago was the first time I stepped foot on the campus of Notre Dame. I was invited by my friend Erica to attend a summer camp with her and some other friends. We were dropped off at Library Circle, and I will never forget walking through the library and out into the courtyard and seeing Touchdown Jesus for the first time.

I was only supposed to be there for five days.

I can now say that I have never left; no matter where life takes me, I will never leave Notre Dame, and Notre Dame will never leave me. I will live my life differently because of Notre Dame. I have learned how to live here, but you’ll never find a course called “Life” listed on my transcript. I will, however, one day be “graded,” but it will not affect my GPA at all. I think it’s either a pass or fail.

I will forever be grateful for what ND has given me. I will be indebted to that Lady covered in gold on top of the Dome until the day I die. Thank you, Mary, for watching over us from your place in the sky. Our university proudly bears your name and would be nothing without your intercession and care. May our lives always be examples of the love of Christ, your Son.

I almost didn’t go. The camp was only five days long, but my mom had her reservations. Could she let her son loose on a university campus and trust the supervision of college students for a week? It took some convincing, but I was finally granted her permission.

Thanks, mom, for letting me go.