The big artwork on the wall seemed so big to me as I stared at how proportionally larger Don Bosco was than Jesus. Carefully made-up hair adorned with beads and tiaras hung about the bottom of my view as I mustered enough strength and willpower to keep my eyes open. The long and monotonous sermon wasnt helping my battle with the sluggish me so I repositioned my monoblock chair by the back wall of the chock-full Church to snap me back to reality. "God works in mysterious ways. You may not know what he plans now, but you will find out soon. Sooner or later, youll be living it," the priest uttered. My memory fails me often, but those words stuck to me like glue.

what we do is determined by fate.