I encountered the Oblates of St. Joseph for the first time in the summer of 1993, when I moved to Pittston, PA, and became a member of one of the local Oblate parishes, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. I was seven years old. Of course, at the time, I had absolutely no idea that I was encountering Oblates. After a while, I did realize that my pastor, Fr. Pavese, and his assistant, Fr. Paul McDonnell, had letters after their name, but what seven-year-old new what that meant? After a few years, when I was in the third grade, I distinctly remember Fr. Paul inviting me to become an altar server, and taking the time to train me, one-on-one, until I could serve the whole Mass without making mistakes. Eventually, my father's job forced the family to move again, and so, at the age of twelve, my Pittston experience was over.

So I thought. Three short years after I had left Pittston, I was living in Wethersfield, CT, and hadn't thought too much about my one-time home back in Pennsylvania. However, when I was in eighth grade and very actively pursuing a hobby in theoretical physics (the concept of time travel fascinated me), I had what I could only describe as an epiphany. The substance of that epiphany was the realization that physics was not God's will for my life. I suddenly began to feel that, instead, God wanted me to be a priest. I informed my parents, and they were both elated and somewhat surprised. Then, in the midst of their support and encouragement, I realized that I had no idea what to do next.

In that situation, probably nine out of ten fourteen-year-old boys would have talked to their parish priest. For whatever reason, that thought didn't really even cross my mind. Rather, I went searching the internet to see if my old parish had a website. It did. And then, did it have a link to Fr. Paul's email address? Yes, it did. Contacting Fr. Paul was both my first instinct and a gamble. After all, he was a busy man, and had probably seen lots of altar servers come and go. Could I really expect that he would remember me? Luckily, he did. I found in his reply the guidance that I lacked. I started coming down to the Oblate Seminary in Pittston from my home in Connecticut every couple of months to become better acquainted with the Oblates and their Founder, St. Joseph Marello. Over the course of five years, the intense feeling of family that I felt when I was with the Oblates and the inspiration I drew from Marello and his ideas in founding the Congregation would lead me to enter the seminary.

Those five years were not exactly a cake walk, though. Keep in mind, this means that I was flirting with the idea of priesthood all throughout high school. At times, it was difficult for people to understand. Teachers told me that priesthood was a waste of my talents. Friends told me that priesthood (indeed, religion) was a foolish idea in the first place. There were a few girls who thought that I would make a better husband and father than a priest. When bad news hit the nation from the Archdiocese of Boston, people began to suspect that I might be pursuing priesthood as a way to practice pedophilia. However, through all that, the constant support of family and friends, as well as the encouragement of the Oblate fathers, helped me to keep from wavering in my resolve, and eventually brought me to security in the decision to become a seminarian. Today, being a seminarian is not always easy, either, but that same group of family and friends, as well as Oblates, keeps me following in the footsteps of St. Joseph and doing my best to do God's will.

Presently, Brother Patrick resides at St. Joseph's Oblate Seminary in Laflin, PA, and is pursuing his Pre-Theology studies at the University of Scranton.