TEENAGER & PRIEST

PART -1 : PRIEST

It was a peaceful afternoon when Royal walked into St. Anthony's Church. The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. The church was empty, and the silence seemed to invite him in, wrapping him in an embrace of tranquility.

Royal sat on a wooden bench in the middle of the church, his thoughts racing.

Life had been difficult lately, and he felt weighed down by constant struggles. As he sat there, lost in thought, a middle-aged priest approached him.
The priest sat down beside him, and immediately, Royal noticed something unusual. A gentle, otherworldly fragrance surrounded the priest, one Royal had never experienced beforelike a hint of heaven itself.

The priest smiled warmly. His face glowed with grace and peace, and his eyes seemed to reflect a deep understanding of the world. "You seem troubled, my son," the priest said in a soothing voice.
Royal, feeling an odd sense of comfort around this priest, replied, "I'm just... tired. Nothing seems to go right for me."

The priest gently patted Royal's shoulder and said, "Would you mind getting me a glass of water?"

Without hesitation, Royal stood up and hurried to fetch the water. When he returned and handed the glass to the priest, he asked, "What's your name, Father?"

The priest smiled, his eyes twinkling. "My name is Anthony."

Royal's heart skipped a beat. "Anthony? Like... St. Anthony of Padua?"

The priest chuckled softly, "Yes, just like him."

A strange feeling settled in Royal's chest. The priest looked familiar, almost too familiar. "Where are you from, Father Anthony?" he asked, curious.

"I come from God Almighty," the priest replied, his voice filled with warmth.

Royal couldn't help but smile at the response, but something inside him nudged at a deeper truth. "Are you-are you really St. Anthony?" he asked, half-joking, but half-hoping.

The priest laughed kindly, brushing off the question. "That's funny, my son. Why would you think such a thing?"

Still, the doubt lingered in Royal's mind. They began to talk more, and Royal opened up about his struggles. "I feel like I'm always failing," he admitted. "No matter what I try, problems just keep coming my way. It's like I'm cursed."

Father Anthony's face softened with compassion. "My son," he said, his voice calm and full of wisdom, "God only gives burdens to those He knows are strong enough to carry them. The trials you face are not punishments, but opportunities to grow. You are far more capable than you give yourself credit for."

Royal was silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. "But I don't feel strong," he whispered. "I feel like I'm falling apart."

"Strength isn't the absence of struggles, my son," Father Anthony replied. "It's your ability to rise each time you fall. And you have risen many times already, haven't you?"

Royal nodded slowly. He had-despite everything, he had always found a way to keep moving forward.

Then, Father Anthony's expression turned playful. "Tell me, Royal, do you still have the rosary you got on your 21st birthday?"

Royal's eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know about that?" he asked, his heart pounding.

Father Anthony smiled mysteriously. "Let's just say I have a way of knowing these things."

Royal's mind raced. The rosary had been a special gift, one he treasured deeply. The shopkeeper had told him it was a gift from St. Anthony himself. "I-I do," Royal stammered. "I've kept it safe."

"Good," the priest said, nodding. "It was meant to remind you that you are never alone. Not in your darkest moments, nor in your brightest. St. Anthony watches over you, always."

Royal looked at the priest, realization dawning. "You are St. Anthony, aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The priest looked at him for a long moment, his face full of grace. Then he smiled, a smile that seemed to light up the entire church. "Does it really matter, my son?" he said softly. "What matters is that you believe."

Tears welled up in Royal's eyes. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming, or if this encounter was something divine. But it didn't matter. In that moment, he felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

The priest stood up slowly, placing a gentle hand on Royal's head. "Keep the faith, my son. You are stronger than you know. And remember, whenever you call, I will be there."

With that, the priest turned and began to walk away, his figure becoming more distant with each step.

Royal sat in awe, his heart filled with peace. He clutched the rosary in his hand and whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude. Whether it had truly been St. Anthony or not, Royal knew that from that day forward, he was not alone. He had a friend and a protector watching over him, guiding him through every challenge life would bring.

And with that thought, Royal rose from the bench, ready to face whatever the world had in store.

To be continued...