Over the past month, I have spent a great deal of time listening, thinking, and reflecting about children and youth through the lens of my seminary coursework and my own vocational call. I have found myself asking what it means for the Church to truly see children and youth, to listen to them, and to create communities where they know they belong–communities that feel like home.

Durante el mes pasado, he dedicado mucho tiempo a escuchar, pensar y reflexionar sobre los niños y los jóvenes desde la perspectiva de mis estudios en el seminario y de mi propia vocación. Me he encontrado preguntándome qué significa que la Iglesia realmente vea a los niños, niñas y jóvenes, que los escuche y que cree comunidades donde sepan que pertenecen; comunidades que se sientan como un hogar.

In the Bishop’s Garden at Washington National Cathedral stands a remarkable cedar tree. Its branches stretch wide across the garden, some nearly touching the ground before turning outward again. The trunk is thick, weathered, and strong. Time and storms have shaped it. The tree does not grow in perfect symmetry. It twists, bends, widens, and reaches.