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Sometimes a friendship with a saint begins in a most unlikely way. For me, it started on a Friday afternoon, as I walked the campus of the large state university where I was a freshman.
My eyes were drawn to big, colorful posters on the lounge windows of one of the dorms: P-A-R-T-Y-! they spelled out—and a big one, too, with college girls coming from all over the state!
That evening I got dressed up in my best blue jeans and angora sweater. as I looked at myself in the mirror, I decided to add a sterling silver cross and chain, a gift from my mom as I left for college. It glistened in the light as I slipped it on over my sweater.
I knew there was something special about the cross—I’d been born and brought up Catholic—yet at that time in my life, I treated it as a kind of lucky charm. I was hoping it would separate me from all the other guys at the party. I wanted some sweet…
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