There is a scene in the remake of the classic “Father of the Bride” that, for many fathers, is the highlight of the movie.
 
Cranky and crazy George Banks finds his bride-to-be daughter Annie playing basketball in their backyard in the middle of the night.

Annie tells George that she doesn’t want to give up the comforts of home, love, family, belonging, but with her wedding a few hours away, she says, “I know I can’t stay, but it’s not like I want to leave.”

Just then, as other family members sleep comfortably inside, snowflakes begin to fall and with George looking at his daughter in a new light, he gets teary-eyed. “I’m just thinking how I’ll remember this moment for the rest of my life.”

Over the summer, countless fathers, like George Banks, gave their daughters in marriage. I would say many of them had George Banks moments. And over the summer, countless fathers, like me, drove their daughters far from home as they started a new life on college campuses across the country.

For my 18-year-old daughter, Mary, it meant us driving nearly 600 miles through three states, across interstates, toll roads and back roads to the community of Atchison, Kan., population 10,000, and home to Benedictine College. When she first told us last year that she had settled on the small liberal arts school on the banks of the Missouri River, I tried to talk her out of it because I thought it was too secluded, even though her grandmother lives only one hour away.

But for reasons known only to her at the time, she had settled on becoming a Raven and was determined to walk along the same walkways that her maternal grandfather once walked during his brief time at the Abbey.

Over the course of the summer, we scrambled to finish her enrollment and to plan her move.

On the day of her move-in, Mary’s jitters had eased to the point that she kept saying that she was ready to start a new life. When I pulled the SUV near the curb close to St. Scholastica Hall, her home for the next year, a dozen Ravens swarmed the car, gathering all of her belongings. Within minutes, I was standing there, like George Banks, not knowing what to do, until someone told me to move my car so other dads could park and unload.

Over the next couple of hours, she and her roommate, her parents and my son, Patrick, my wife and I helped pull the room together. I kept thinking about everything that Mary would be experiencing over the next year, and hoping that she would not forget the reason that she came here in the first place: securing a good education at a Catholic university that is in accord with the U.S. bishops and the Vatican.

As we sat down for the send-off Mass later that afternoon, I prepared hard to keep my emotions in check. Then Father Brendan Rolling, a Benedictine monk who serves as the youth minister for Benedictine College, delivered his sermon.

He marveled at the standing-room-only crowd in the Abbey Church and how it fulfilled Pope John Paul II’s vision of a new evangelization spearheaded by the youth. Indeed, this year’s freshman class at Benedictine was beyond its normal size and it caused some scheduling conflicts.

Father Rolling recounted that water can get hot at 211 degrees Fahrenheit, but that at 212 degrees it is boiling.

“You’re here to learn from faculty who, by teaching at Benedictine College, have agreed to uphold the truths of our Catholic faith in the classroom,” he said. “To be coached by professionals who have been hired because they are committed to living the values of Jesus Christ on the court.  To be led by priests who take their oath of fidelity seriously and deliver on it in our chapels. 

“We will honor your commitment by challenging you intellectually, personally and spiritually.  In turn, never be afraid to challenge Benedictine to live up to its mission,” he said. “This mutual covenant will generate the one degree of difference that can lead to Christian greatness.”

And, as if Father Rolling knew exactly what parents would be going through in the next few hours as they said goodbye to their children, he reminded us about courage, trust and faith.

“Trust is the one degree that will make a difference in your freshman year,” he said. “When Jesus appeared to St. Faustina, he asked her to paint his image and write these words at the bottom of the painting:  ‘Jesus, I trust in you.’

“If you trust in Jesus this week, he will give you the same strength and boldness that … St. Faustina experienced.  If you say this prayer throughout the year, Jesus will take you forward and improve your relationship with Him.”

When it was time to put our hands on Mary’s shoulders, tears flowed down our cheeks, but we otherwise kept our composure.

Later, Mary and several of her friends from Dallas, who also felt called to Benedictine College, gathered at the grotto on campus. Mary lit a few candles, said her prayers, gathered with her friends for photos and then all of the Dallas families gathered in prayer for the children.

As we prepared to leave, parents and children shed tears. I told Mary that that I loved her; that I would miss her, but that I was grateful for the courage and conviction she had in choosing a Catholic college.

As she walked down the hill toward her dorm with her friends, I had that moment that George Banks talked about remembering for the rest of his life. Mary was laughing, holding hands with some of her best friends, swinging their arms as they walked and talked and prepared to start a new chapter. We, their parents, I thought, would be fine, too, because that scene didn’t necessarily represent George Banks’ Hollywood scene, but the scene that Father Rolling talked about when Christ appeared to St. Faustina.

“Jesus, I trust in you.”

David Sedeño is the editor of The Texas Catholic, El Católico and www.texascatholic.com. He can be reached at 214-379-2885 or dsedeno@cathdal.org.