“The road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet,
And whiter then? I cannot say.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien
There are two things that I’d like to point out right now. The first is that it is a little cramped in here, the second is that when I’m in the air my bladder has a mind of its own. That is the disadvantage of sitting in a window seat; on one end is a wall that I will inevitably bump my elbow into, on the other is a man who’s elbow I bump into or visa versa. I’m not claustrophobic, I’m just complacent by nature. The ideal airplane seat for me is the isle seat, I don’t have to disturb my neighbors when nature calls and at least I can freely move one of my arms so I don’t get cramped. As I said that’s why I shouldn’t sit by the window, which of course, has yet to stop me from sitting by the window. As disadvantageous it is for me and others I still satisfy my greed. I enjoy the window seat. I don’t even have to turn my head to see the outside world.
I’ve always taken pleasure in flying. There are several reasons why. The first, and most obvious one, is that I am flying. I have the privilege of being able to leave the ground and soar like a bird. For millennia we human beings have dreamed of flying, that day when we first see birds we can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, myself in particular. Dating back to the ancient Greeks we have been wanting to fly. For years we’ve been advancing in that direction but couldn’t reach it. We’ve only been able to sail the skies for a little over a hundred years. When the Wright brothers had managed to do so how wonderful they must’ve felt. To be the first people in the air. And because of them I can travel atmosphere.
There are many parts of flying that I greatly enjoy. The first, of course, is the take off. I enjoy every minute of it and can’t help but laugh joyfully as the plane takes me to new heights. The whirring of the engine, the rush of the speed, and the sensation of being lifted, as if by an unseen hand, and then again as we land. The second is being in the air, looking as the houses turn into pebbles and the clouds swallow us up. When we get above the clouds they look so solid, and for a good two minutes I convince myself that I could walk on them. And the sun being right in your face, shining down on you as if to say, “So close, but I’m still higher.” It’s nice, my friend Matt once told me that when he was flying he saw a sunset above the clouds. He told me that it was so beautiful that he knew right then and there that there was a god. I can’t help but agree with him.
The final thing that I like about the experience of flying is the wing. I can never take just any window seat, I have to have the seat where I can see the wing in front or next to me. Because the wings of the airplane are so interesting. It’s a bar of steel lined with propellers, watching the propellers turn used to spark my interest, but no longer. What really intrigues me is the back of the wing. All the hinges and panels that go into steering this machine. It’s so cool to see, a panel flies up and the plane slows, the back edge goes down and we escalate. It’s almost a play-by-play flight.
The second reason is that I get to meet new people. People that I otherwise wouldn’t meet at all. We’re all the body of Christ, but how often does a liver cell get the chance to talk to a brain cell? Sometimes they were interesting, like the guy I sat by who was studying physics. Sometimes they’re warm, like the woman who kept going on about her grandkids. Other times they’re more interested in their cell phones, books, or laptops to pay me any attention. Either way I didn’t mind. I liked talking to them and learning about them, teaching them about me. Sometimes for ages, sometimes for only two hours, and sometimes two hours lasted years. I like people, that goes to show I guess because I’m on my way for missionary work where I’ll be around people, but I like to stress that point. People are interesting. People are different. People are similar. People are new. People are exciting. I’ve always been interested in people, ever since I was little. I always wondered what it’d be like to be someone else.
The third reason is what flying represents. I’m not simply hovering in the air, I’m going somewhere. I’m traveling, I am on my way to a new experience, to a new environment, to more new people. In this case it’s missionary work in San Francisco. Where I will be helping out a parish called Corpus Christi. My supervisor person will be Father José Lucero. I haven’t met nor talked to him. I’ve only communicated through email, and not that much too. I can’t wait to meet him, I have no idea what he’ll be like. I also have little to no expectations about him, and about the year too. I don’t know if I’m in for a treat or a vegetable. I don’t mind either way, the only thing I know is that I’m going to be busy. Father José sent me my job description: I am to help prepare and facilitate Youth Nights on wednesdays, young adult nights on thursday nights, movie night fridays, Oratory on saturdays and weekday afternoons, presence on Sundays. Run the CCYM Soccer Team and help prepare and run retreats as well as animate Youth Liturgies. Community day is Monday so my only day off would be Tuesday. Upon looking at this I was both excited and intimidated. It was a lot of work, I couldn’t wait to get started. The only fear I had really was that I would be useless to them. I’ve spent an entire semester vegging out, writing, and playing guitar.
On the last week I had before heading out I spent my days playing The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, teaching myself Chinese and trying to hang out with my friends before I leave and don’t return for a year. Yesterday was spent packing up enough clothes to last a year, along with several books of my choice. Which were my Bible, Prey, State of Fear, and Pirate Latitudes by Michael Chricton, all ten of the books of the Demonata series by Darren Shan, Life of Pi, Les Misérables by Victor Hugo, The “R” Father by Mark Hart, Sea of Trolls and Land of the Silver Apples by Nancy Farmer, and finally The Hunger games by Suzanne Collins. Some of those books I haven’t read yet, I’m not sure If I’ll be able to read all of them but it’s nice to have something familiar along with me. I love books, despite the fact that I’m ADHD I can still sit down and read. If I had the money to buy them, my room would be filled with books. I packed everything, excited for the next day.
Last night I stayed up till 4 trying to beat the game (Zelda) without success. My flight would leave at 1:30, my parents woke me at 8. I awoke and rushed to pack stuff for my carry on, showered, and went with my family to Cracker Barrel to eat breakfast with the family for the last time. My mom kept hugging me and saying “I’m gonna miss you mijito.” I told her halfheartedly that I’d miss her too. It’s not that I won’t miss them, it’s just that I was too excited to think about that. I’m sure later tonight it’ll hit me that I won’t see my family for a year. I went through security and got on my flight. I was heading to Phoenix Arizona, from there to San Francisco. As I landed in Phoenix I realized that I didn’t pack a flashlight. I walked over and bought a pocket one. I was then hungry. So I looked around and saw a Starbucks. I have two gift cards on me, one is worth ten dollars for Chick-Fill-A that my friend Richard gave me as a birthday gift. The second is a five dollar gift card for Starbucks, so I wouldn’t have to pay for something from there. I walked up and got a slice of lemon bread. I checked my phone, my plane would be boarding in three minutes. I started walking back when security stopped me. I had exited on accident and would have to go through Phoenix security in three minutes! I kept pacing back and forth nervously throughout it, and finally managed to get to my terminal only to discover that it wasn’t leaving for another half-hour and I could’ve taken my time! It just isn’t an airport without rushing, is it? I get on the plane a half-hour later and my very first thought is window seat! Now! And thus I continue my journey killing time the way I did on my first plane ride; learning Chinese, reading Les Misérables, Life of Pi, and The “R” Father (the rest of my books were in luggage.)Writing, and staring out the window in awe, this time at the mountains that were on the ground, snow had powdered over them like powdered sugar, they stuck up and down, like we were flying over the earth’s spine. And also the sun was setting just to the left, making the horizon beautiful. The sea of blue met a line of red and they were combining to make a line of green, yellow, and orange. It’s the little things, you know?
As I stared out the window I couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for me. Will I be of use? Will I have fun? Will I work as hard as I think I will or as hard as I hope I will? What’s this church look like? What’s San Francisco like? I had way more questions than answers. I then notice the ocean. Outside my window was the west coast, I think, it could be like a lake or something, but it’s pretty huge, maybe it was a desert because the “water” was really still. It was incredibly vast, in the light it looked gray. The sun was going down, soon it’d be night time. I like flying at night, all the stars above and the black pit underneath made me feel, I know this is going to sound childish, like I was traveling through space. I’m so easily entertained.
As I look my mind wanders off a bit, I recall the words my dad told my brothers and I this morning. We were asking which of us was the most mature in dad’s opinion. He told us that Spencer was due to his experience, he also said that I was more mature than Spencer was at nineteen. Then he said, “I’m proud of yall, I mean you guys are so young and you’re actually living life.” Remembering that makes me glad, I’m living life he says. That’s good. Life is for the living. As a wise man once said; some people die at twenty and don’t get buried till seventy.
I suppose I should give you a little background check, even though most of you reading this are my friends who know me already, it feels appropriate. I am Nick Leija. I suppose I should’ve started with that. I’ve been nineteen years old for fiveish days. I have two brothers, one younger, one older. I also have a large extended family that I keep in contact with. I used to do gymnastics for the longest time. I recently quit because I decided I wasn’t going anywhere with it. Maybe I’ll pick it up again, maybe not. I’ve actually been thinking about taking some Muay Thai classes, but that’s beside the point. I enjoy reading, writing, women, acting, hammocks, anything active, crafts, woodworking, physics (even when I don’t understand it), stargazing, birdwatching, kendo, jokes and humor, being mean in a funny way, learning languages, learning and making codes, video games, the guitar, the piano, horseback riding (haven’t done it in years but if the opportunity arrives I’ll do it at the drop of a coin), archery (same), swimming, fishing, sarcasm, prayer, singing (praying twice), swing dance (in order to help indulge in the third thing I enjoy [Don’t roll your eyes, it works]), classic movies, anime, manga, being active in the church, and theology, all of which in no particular order. I once discovered a Bible manga in Barnes and Nobles, I died laughing. I know that’s a long list, but I’ve had a busy life, and yes I’ve participated in all that I’ve mentioned on the list, back off haters.
I have very few expectations in life, I do have goals though, don’t mistake the two. I’ll strive to achieve those goals but won’t be disappointed if I don’t achieve some of them. Some of my goals include learning nine languages; Spanish, French, Italian, Hebrew, Arabic, Chinese, German, Greek, and Russian, again, no particular order. I know a good amount of Spanish and am learning Chinese. I don’t expect to be fluent in all of them, just four (oh is that all!). Be good at guitar and piano and drums, write a book, whether or not it get’s published is irrelevant. Travel the world and use the nine languages in the countries, live in Spain, punch a whale (don’t ask), catch a shark, get married, be either an actor, stage or movie/TV, or an FBI agent, learn as much as I can, have children and teach them what I know, read the whole bible with notes and highlighted areas, have at least one verse from every book and at least one book in the bible memorized, I have some down, such as Revelations 1:18: I have the keys to Hell and death. That’s such an awesome line! or Colossians 3:12-17.
Flying over San Francisco at night. There are so many lights and buildings, I can see the sea in the distance, and a sea of lights too. We land and I feel a rush of excitement. I’m here! I’ve arrived! My time has come! I actually made it! I’m in California! I get my bags and wait to be picked up. I end up waiting an eternity until I get picked up by a young man that looked 21 and an old priest. Their names are Shane and Father Leo. We drive to Corpus Christi, where I’d meet my new family. I don’t know what to expect, but I can’t wait. Some teens were playing football in the basketball court, enjoying themselves. When a man walks out and tells them to come inside, Father José. They go in, Shane, Father Leo, and I follow them.
I go down the stairs and through the door, I’m immediately greeted by numerous friendly smiling teens and youth, a giant “Welcome!” fills the room. I smile bright and friendly and return the hi. “I’m Nick,” I say, “I don’t know if you already know that or not, but it’d feel weird to not say my name so… hi.” They smile a little more, a few laugh silently. They had prepared some spaghetti for me. I then start on learning names. I’ve only managed to retain a few; Sal, Luis, Mario, Allen, Adan, Liz, the list goes on. I sit by Father José, I thank him for taking me in and we converse while I eat. Luis asked me if I wanted to play football with them. I’ve never really played but I gotta learn to like what they like, so I agree to. I play football with them and thanks to my speed and maneuverability I manage to impress them. I don’t know the rules to football, so I only go when the guy next to me does, that way it looks like I know what I’m doing. The game ends, nobody keeps score so no one loses, I managed to tag them fiveish times and score twice. These kids already like me. That was easy.
As the kids leave I follow Father José through the maze of a church. There were three buildings, one was the church and hall where we were, in the first room I was in there was a piano! Upstairs in the rec. room were three pool tables, a big TV, and two more pianos! I was overjoyed. We walked through a big office with a computer, three guitars, lots of papers, and some magic trick boxes. “If you want this can be your office.” Father José later tells me. I didn’t know what to expect, so I was surprised to get my own office! The second building was called “The house,” it’s where the priests live and spend their time. Father José encourages me to spend my free time here and at the church to integrate myself with the community. I nod, he doesn’t have to tell me twice. Inside the “house” were several offices and bedrooms, a big TV (I asked if they have BBC, they do! I then start telling them about Doctor Who, Father José says that they’ll have to start watching that since it’s the only TV show I’m addicted to! Yes!!), a dining area and kitchen, and several cats. And the cats have three names each! Well, I’m assuming three, we don’t know their third names (T.S. Elliot). I sit down in Father José’s office, “So tell me about yourself.” He tells me. I then begin telling him about all that came to my mind, about all the stuff I’ve done, the activities I’ve participated in, my family, I then tell him about my faith life and how it started, how I didn’t really get into my faith until that one night in Eucharistic Adoration at a Steubenville convention, how the Blessed Sacrament caused the entire stadium to cry, not a single person wasn’t crying. And then people started laughing, and I laughed, and there wasn’t a single person that wasn’t laughing. Father José’s eyes lit up at this story, “That’s what we gotta do!” He says excitedly.
“Adoration?” I ask.
“Yeah!” he nods, “These kids are so active and into their faith here, I can tell that they’re ready togo deeper. I feel like some vocations can come out of here. These kids are on fire for God and they’re ready for more. What I need you to do is to be you, these kids are curious as to vocations, answering the call, like you have for missionary work. They’re going to be interested in you, how you act, what you bring to the table. I need an example, can you do that for me?”
I can’t help but smile, “Yes sir,” I say confidently.
We continue conversing, Father José has a good amount of wisdom, hopes, and expectations. I hope that I can live up to them. “You’ve come at a right time,” he tells me, “St. John Bosco’s feast day is coming so we’re having a five day weekend.”
“A what now?” I ask.
“A five day weekend,” Father repeats, “It’s going to basically be one big party, we’re starting off with a lock-in friday that you’ll be in charge of.”
“Come again?” I raise an eyebrow, I’ve only been here for two hours and I”m already in charge of something, awesome!
“I want you to lead the lock in,” he tells me, “You can emcee, that way the kids will get to know you right away.”
“Sounds great.” I nod excitedly. Rule 28: Life is for the living, I thought to myself. Let’s get living!
