Love. God loves me? What does being Catholic really mean? All these ultimate “unanswerable” questions were answered for me on one night in New York. On the last day of my trip this past July, we had an end of the week celebration Mass where we sang worship songs and had a “special surprise” at the end. This Mass was celebrating all the strenuous work we had put towards this week. I had been wondering all that day, What kind of surprise is this going to be? What is going to happen? Is it good or bad? My mind was spinning.

Once we started singing, my focus was directly taken off this surprise. All I could do was sing loudly and proudly, so that’s what I did. I felt happy and joyful and couldn’t keep a smile off my face as we proclaimed the upbeat music. We sang the first, second, third, then our last worship song all the way through. Then came the time. The big surprise that had somehow slipped my mind.

        As the Mass singing ended, I thought to myself, Ok when are we doing the surprise? I’m ready! Little did I know, I was everything but prepared for what was about to happen. The leaders had tuned on soft music to distract us while they prepared something with their backs facing us. I couldn’t tell what they were doing; the only thing I saw was water. “What is going on?” I whispered as I turned my head to ask one of my ministry leaders.

        “Just wait and see,” she murmured back with a smile on her face.

        The mission leader supplied my ministry leaders with two large, clear bowls of water along with fluffy, soft white towels. They delivered a speech that I mostly blanked out for until the very end. I will never forget these exact words, “You all worked for Christ this week, now let us work for you.” As we were all directed to a pew, I immediately broke down in tears as we took off our socks and shoes. My biggest role models were going to wash my feet just as Christ had washed his disciples’ feet. At the time, I felt nervous and unworthy of this deed, thinking, Why would they wash my feet? They shouldn’t do this for me. I should be doing this for them.

        I was seated towards the center of pew, so I was one of the last ones to receive this beautiful moment. She went down the line washing all my friends’ feet. It felt like hours when it was only limited minutes, to the time she finally reached me. Lora Glissner. One of my best friend’s mom. She had the faith I could only look up to and always will. She is a short woman with long blonde hair. Her completion a deep tan as if she had just visited the beach. She always smelled like a comforting warm vanilla.

        I felt nervous and for some reason frightened. Finally, she was sitting at my feet. The person I could only strive to be, the role model I always looked up to; I admired her and all her beauty. She scooted in front of me with her soft smile, set my feet in the warm water and gently washed them with her small, soft hands. In that moment, it all felt right; l my distress and concerns about my faith, had all vanished. I leaned my head on top of her shoulder, wet from others’ tears, as she leaned hers on mine. She thanked the Lord for my being and every word she spoke made me break down even more. “Lord, I thank you for this day that we get to see the compassion and beauty that is Georgia.”

My whole body felt weightless while my head felt like it was carrying the heaviest weight in the world. Crying felt like getting rid of all the weight of worries I had felt against God. This was the hardest, most genuine time I have ever bawled in my life, not of sadness, but of pure joy and relief knowing, God loves me.