Finding Faith

  Andrew was getting sick of visiting offices.

  After his former friends had given him grief in the cafeteria, his last two classes went by at a snail’s pace. All he could think about was the trouble that his friends had gotten him into. They had called him over to their table when he first transferred to that school. They talked badly about the cheerleaders first, and he only said what he did because they started it. He never would have trespassed at Westview High School or considered vandalizing it if his friends had not brought him there and done it first.

  They’re to blame for everything, Andrew thought grimly, and I’m the victim here.

  Despite how much he wanted to believe that, he was torn inside.

  He knew that his former friends were guilty of pressuring him, but he also knew that he was the one that went along with it.

  As he sat in the office staring at his counselor, he just wanted it all to be over.

  “Thank you for coming.” Senior Counselor Robertson had a kind face and his eyes twinkled when he spoke. “I would first like to assure you that this is not a punishment. As I said earlier, this is—”

  An opportunity to grow as a person, Andrew recalled while his counselor repeated those words. Yeah, right.

  Counselor Robertson continued, “Grove High was founded to be a place where free education could be provided for those in need. I can see from your academic records that you had transferred from a Catholic school. That must have been a strange transition, perhaps a very difficult one?”

  “It has been challenging,” Andrew admitted. His stomach was in knots.

  “And,” Counselor Robertson peered thoughtfully at Andrew, “Throughout these challenges that you have faced, how did you feel?”

  “Overwhelmed,” Andrew replied honestly, “and… lonely.”

  The counselor nodded in understanding. “It’s only natural that you would feel alone and look for new friends. To try and find someone that would understand.”

  Andrew shook his head at the thought that his counselor was actually trying to relate to him, to truly understand him.

  “Your records show that you were a solid student.” Robertson glanced down at the academic record on his desk. “Clearly above average with your grades. And, you were even on the soccer team every year. That’s pretty impressive.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Andrew muttered despondently.

  “I think that it does.” Robertson’s face turned serious. “Are you aware that your grades are slipping?”

  The question took Andrew by surprise. “Um, what?”

  “At your last school you were practically a Straight-A student,” the counselor continued pointedly, “but now your grades are averaging in the B’s and C’s range.”

  Andrew was taken aback. The boys and Billy’s mystery had taken all of his attention lately. “I guess I really hadn’t noticed that.”

  “Why do you think your grades have dropped?”

  “I’ve been busy,” Andrew replied defensively. His parents used to be so proud of his grades.

  Counselor Robertson folded the file and set it aside. “You still have time to turn everything around and get on the right track again, to be a part of the winning team. Speaking of team, how come you didn’t try out for this school’s soccer team? I’m sure with your experience you would have done well.”

  At the mention of soccer, Andrew recalled the conversation that he had with his father in the car on the way to Angela’s semi-finals. Andrew was so frustrated, so upset that his parents might miss his semi-finals soccer game to possibly watch his sister’s State Competition instead.

  Andrew distractedly answered, “I haven’t played soccer since… since my—”

  His glanced away from his counselor as his eyes began to fill with tears. He tried to forget his feelings of pain, of guilt, but they were all beginning to resurface.

  Counselor Robertson stood up and walked over to Andrew. “I’m sorry.”

  Andrew glanced up, but instead of just seeing his counselor’s concerned expression, he thought about his father’s face. He remembered his father’s upset eyes as he tried to take the MP3 player away from him. He saw the look of disappointment, of anger. Then, he saw the look of horror, and it made Andrew burst out in tears.

  “I’m sorry dad,” Andrew said through tears, “I am so sorry.” Andrew felt so ashamed of himself that he hid his face in his hands. What is the matter with me? Why am I falling to pieces in front of this guy?

  His counselor gave Andrew some space and then continued, “I know you miss him. I know you miss both of them very much.” Robertson’s voice was full of compassion.

  “More… than… anything,” Andrew replied as he struggled to control himself.

  As he continued to cry, he reflected on everything that had happened since the accident, and it made him feel ashamed. Andrew wished his mother was there to tell him everything would be alright. He wished his father was there to forgive him. He wished the pain would just go away.

  “Andrew.” Counselor Robertson’s voice was thick with emotion, “I’m sorry about your parents. When you lose someone close to you, it feels like you’ve lost a part of yourself with them.”

  “How do you know?” Andrew said while staring at him with saddened eyes. “How could you really understand?”

  Counselor Robertson walked back to his chair and took a seat. He glanced briefly at Andrew before making a show of looking through papers on his desk. “We can continue this another time. This session is over. You are free to go now.”

  “No.” Andrew was incensed. “I’ve heard this all before. Everyone always says that they know… they know… but what do they really know about the pain?”Andrew felt himself redden at his outburst, but he didn’t back down.

  “I’m going to tell you something.” Robertson slowly folded his hands together on the desk. “Something that is not easy to say sometimes. I am Catholic.”

  Andrew crinkled his brows in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I want you to realize that you are not alone.” Counselor Robertson smiled at Andrew, but his eyes reflected his tortured soul. “I was born a Catholic, I lived the faith, but when my wife… when she died… I felt that I had lost everything.”

  “What happened?” Andrew felt oddly captivated at the thought of someone else having lost a loved one. He wiped away the last of his tears.

  “My wife had developed cancer five years ago, and despite the treatments, the cancer spread. There was nothing anyone could do to save her.” Robertson spoke softly. “We always wanted to have children someday. I really wanted to be a father. But, when she passed away, I was bitter, angry with God, and I lost my way. I had blamed God for taking my wife from me.”

  He paused and let Andrew reflect on that for a moment.

  Robertson continued, “So, to get away from it all, I quit my job at a Catholic high school and settled for this position. For many years I struggled to understand what my purpose was anymore. Everything felt hollow, unimportant. Throughout my time at this school, I saw many students rise, and many fall as well. Although it took a while to understand, I realized my purpose at this school. As a counselor, I have a chance to help those who want to change. I can help give students confidence in their abilities. To give them hope. In a way, being a counselor is like being a father. God had a plan for me, and He has a plan for you as well.”

  Andrew remained silent and just looked at his counselor. “My father used to say things like that. That God has a plan for everyone. I wish I knew what my purpose is.”

  “Why don’t you just ask Him?” Robertson gently prodded Andrew. “When was the last time you went to Mass?”

  “This is a public school,” Andrew replied feeling defensive and self-conscious. “Are you allowed to ask me that?”

  Robertson grinned. “Our meeting officially ended when I said you could leave. This conversation is in our free time
, and we are allowed to say whatever we want.”

  “I suppose I can answer the question then,” Andrew said as he chewed his lip. “I haven’t gone to a church in months.”

  “Why is that?” Robertson seemed genuinely concerned.

  “My parents used to take me there,” Andrew admitted, “and now that I moved, my uncle watches over me. But, he’s not Catholic, at least not practicing that is. I don’t even know where the closest church is around here.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Bottom Grove.” Andrew fidgeted.

  “Hmm.” Robertson looked deep in thought. “Well, I’m sure there’s a church nearby your house somewhere, but, I’ll tell you what. If you would like to go to Mass again, I will be more than happy to go with you. There’s a really nice church I attend that is nearby.”

  Andrew felt vulnerable and uncomfortable. “I don’t know.” He stood and looked awkwardly at his counselor. “I think I’m going to leave now. May I be excused?”

  “Of course.” Robertson almost sounded disappointed. “We can talk more tomorrow after school.”

  Andrew froze as he remembered that he was required to report to his counselor every day after school. He looked him in the eyes and pointedly asked, “Can we talk about something different next time?”

  “Yes.” Robertson smiled kindly. “We will.”

  “Thank you,” Andrew replied, relief evident in his voice.

  As he headed for the door, Counselor Robertson called out, “Mass isn’t until this weekend, you have plenty of time to think about accepting my offer.”

  Andrew grinned at how persistent his counselor was and then he left.

  24