Before I was formed in the womb of your mother, I already knew you. Before you were born, I had already chosen you to be a prophet to the nations

I arrived in the world much like most people do. I am the fruit of my parents’ love. The circumstances surrounding my birth I only know partially, because on a birthday one of my brothers recounted it to me in a letter he sent. He remembers it in detail; for me, it’s just an anecdote… Something I really like about my birth is that I arrived late. As will be seen in the narration, I am not the bravest and most conquering Christian that exists; rather, I am cautious and slow to commit. But it’s curious that, amidst my fears, what most pushes me to break through them is knowing I can do good for someone… This is reflected from my very first glimpse of the world. I took a long time to be born, and the doctor asked my mom what date she preferred to induce labor: options were October 14, 15, or 16, morning or afternoon. My mom, against all odds for a pregnant woman wanting to get rid of the bump inside her, chose the 16th in the afternoon. The reason: to keep me inside as long as possible. Whenever I hear this, I am filled with pride and joy, knowing how much I have been loved even before I was born. The moment to see the light arrived, and knowing I was a slowpoke, the doctor went to get his coffee. As soon as he left the room (it wasn’t even the operating room), I had my first mischief: to be born without a doctor. My mom started feeling labor pains and internally told herself: this will hurt, but together we will offer each pain. That’s how I began my walk in the world, with respect for what life entails, but motivated by the idea that nothing is meaningless, and those small sufferings could be offered for someone or simply endured as a burden.

My dad rushed to inform the doctor about the prank I was pulling, and the doctor, faster than my dad, stopped me in my eagerness to jump out, took us to the operating room, and received me… They say I was a very calm baby, that I didn’t bother or wake up to eat, that I preferred sleeping over eating; I believe this because to this day, it’s still true.

I recount my arrival into this world because the passage of time has made me realize that God calls because He wants to; my calling is not the result of any merit, it is God’s free love. It is a very normal arrival that, however, somewhat describes what my vocation will be: accepting life as it comes and offering to God everything He allows me to live.

My childhood flew by among games, prayers, training, friends, and the essentials of school. I can say I was very happy; I consider I was a very cheerful boy who took life very calmly. I think nothing overwhelmed me, maybe just homework. The Lord wanted to knock on my door at a very early age; it was one summer before entering secondary school. To avoid going to a summer camp, I managed to go that summer to the apostolic community.

The morning they received all the children who would start the summer course, my mom dressed me very formally (pants and a dress shirt, both blue), took me to get a haircut, and from there we went to the apostolic community. If I had known that the farewell that day would last for the rest of my life, that I would only return home to visit… I would have had a heart attack. However, I knew nothing of this and was as fresh as a lettuce. The place always captivated me; we arrived and I sat to watch a match on the small soccer field, my cousin and I while our parents handled the paperwork and the fee for those days. When they finished, we went to say goodbye, something very simple. They set up a soccer game, Mexico against someone else. Before going, Luis offered me a soda, and we went to watch. In the afternoon, they organized some games, one called “burnouts,” I loved it. After the games, they organized the battalions. They asked us to form a long line by height to create groups of children, like small communities, something like the army, where it functions in small groups led by a leader, in this case a prefect (religious brother). Luis and I stood together in line so we wouldn’t be separated. We lacked a bit of cunning because they were dividing the three battalions, one by one. It was logical that, if we were together in line, we wouldn’t end up in the same battalion—that didn’t occur to us at the time. I was in battalion “A” and he in “C.” That afternoon, we had Mass. Nothing special until the offertory. I was among the youngest, and I was called to carry the offerings with another boy (Marco). When I was bringing the offerings (I think they were the cruets, but I’m not sure), I felt something very simple and clear in my heart: why don’t you offer yourself? When I said I didn’t want to be a priest, it was simply because nothing attracted me as much as forming a big family with many children (eleven). However, at that moment, without the slightest effort, a yes came out as simple as the proposal. I was used to hearing at home that above all, it was God’s will. As a child, I didn’t understand much what that meant, but I came to understand that if God asks you for something, He will also make you happy with what He has asked. I didn’t hesitate, and my yes came out spontaneously, leaving behind all the times I had said I would only spend the summer and that I wanted to be the father of eleven children. Now that I think about it, God is clever; with me, He couldn’t wait for me to realize the reality. I am so fearful that, if I realized the commitment I had taken, I might have backed out. I really like how He knows how to work with each soul; He must push me and then explain, while with others, He does the opposite, making everything very clear so they can leap. Anyway, I left that Mass with a desire to be a priest. Something curious is that as soon as I accepted the invitation, priesthood appeared to me as something very beautiful. There was a particular Irish priest, who was my “spiritual director” that summer, and he captivated me completely. I knew that if God gave me the gift of priesthood, I wanted to be like that father, who always had smiles and “Gansitos” for everyone. That’s how it all began, at least in my head and heart.