As a child growing up Byzantine Catholic in a small Ukrainian church in Ford City, PA, I was blessed with having a priest whose love, compassion, and kindness were noticeable even to me as a young child. After a particular Sunday mass, I walked up to Father Michael, pulled on his robe and said, “Father Michael, when I grow up, I want to be just like you.” I adored being around the goodness that he emanated. A few years later, he was transferred and another priest took his place. Most everyone there was saddened by his departure, and I have never forgotten him.
