As I ran down a dirt road in the village of Nandarola, Nicaragua, I could hear the bus approaching behind me, its air horn tauntingly blowing. With four-year-old Miguel on my shoulders, the two of us were racing the bus back to his small house. It was the last day of my visit to this remote community. It was a poignant moment, waving goodbye to the mothers and children — Miguel included — as we left, and one of many fulfilling and joyful experiences I had in Nicaragua.

Like any other Sunday I sat in those wooden benches, eagerly waiting for the priest to take his place at the pulpit and give his homily. Impatiently drumming my fingers against the wooden edge, I looked around the church.

Lent is a season which seems to always start strong in our hearts, and then gradually falls apart throughout our time of suffering alongside Jesus. We are now starting our journey. We already binged on pancakes a few days ago and a good few of us decided to give up either candy, chocolate, television or cellphones. (I’ll pray for you guys, don’t worry.)

The mass shooting that claimed four lives in La Loche, Sask., and injured seven more on Jan. 22 was a horrific tragedy.

The spring of 1633 was a time of controversy in the Catholic Church. The Inquisition had decided to bring a Florentine scientist named Galileo Galilei to trial for authoring a book that declared the heliocentric model of the universe as unequivocally correct, which contradicted the Church’s teachings at the time.

With the start of a new year, what has become increasingly evident to me is how fortunate I am to have strong, faith-filled female friends.

Over Christmas break I had the privilege of attending Catholic Christian Outreach’s annual Rise Up conference. Throughout the five-day conference I reflected on the conference theme “Made for Greatness” and how it relates to my life.

It was in my final year of religion class where I learned about Jesus’ sermon on the mount. The sermon, which begins in Matthew 5, is a good guide for self-reflection. What resonated with me the most from the sermon starts on Matthew 6:19 with Jesus’ lessons on treasure.

Since becoming The Catholic Register’s youth editor in February, I’ve been trying to recapture what it truly means to “give Catholic youth a voice.” To me, it means capturing the energy and the spirit of youth ministry.

I can fondly recall as a young boy the excitement that I, and many of my friends, felt as we approached Grade 4. The time had finally come when we were considered mature enough to be altar servers at our parish, St. Anthony of Padua.