When I was a child, life was not easy. My dad worked two jobs to try and support my mom and me so that we could buy a home, have nice clothes and enough to eat. He wasn't home very much, and when he was home he was usually sleeping because he was so tired. I never really got to spend any time with my dad until I was grown up.

My mom worked hard, too. She didn't have a job but she was always busy cleaning and cooking, and when I was six years old my mother had a baby and another arrived thirteen months later. Then she was incredibly busy and didn't have much time left over for me. I felt pretty lonely.

One day I went for a walk, by myself as usual, and I went by the church. In those days the church rectory was next door to the church and as I passed by I saw my minister out in the yard digging. I walked over to him to say "hello" and he put down his shovel, sat down in the grass and began talking to me. He didn't talk at me, he didn't give me a sermon, he just sat with me and listened to me talk. He asked me all about school and my life in general. We must have sat and talked like that for at least an hour. He did not know it, but those few moments with him changed me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was special. I felt worthy of having someone listen to me, I felt treasured and cared about. My minister had no idea how much those few moments meant to me. But that day so long ago, he had planted a seed within me. It didn't sprout up overnight, but it grew, gradually, into a sense of being called to ministry.