As I boarded the plane after the last Tolton tour, I was aching from head to toe. I just wanted to sleep. I sat next to the window, closed the shade, and shut my eyes.
That's when I started to see the faces, smiles, and tears of the people that had attended the shows. I remembered the elementary school student who said he was going to be a priest. I heard the voices of the nuns and priests who said they were praying for more Father Toltons -- and for me. I saw the tearstained face of the woman who told me that in the final scene of the show she hadn’t seen me or Father Tolton, but the son that she had lost, telling her it was going to be ok. As I held her hands, she urged me to continue to share Father Tolton’s life.
I no longer felt the aches and pains, but the tears rolling down my face. I heard myself saying, “Lord, I thank you for choosing me to tell this story.”