When Grace was nineteen, she met Daniel, a young seminarian whose smile carried a peace she had never seen before. They met during a parish youth program in a small African town. Daniel was kind, humble, and always willing to help others. Grace admired him from a distance at first, but friendship slowly brought them closer. One evening after choir practice, they sat beneath a mango tree as the sun disappeared behind the hills. "Do you ever regret entering the seminary?" Grace asked. Daniel smiled softly. "No. God called me. Sometimes the journey is difficult, but I know where my heart belongs." Grace nodded, but deep inside, her heart broke. Because by then, she had already fallen in love with him. She never told him. Years passed. Daniel continued his formation, moving from one stage to another. Grace remained in the parish. She prayed for him, defended him when people criticized him, and celebrated every step of his journey. When he became an acolyte, she was there. When he became a lector, she was there. When he received ministries, she was there. Always smiling. Always clapping. Always hiding her tears. Her friends told her she was wasting her life. "Grace, move on." "Find someone who will marry you." "Why are you waiting for a man who will become a priest?" But she could not explain it. She wasn't waiting for him to marry her. She was waiting for her heart to stop loving him. Seven years came and went. Suitors arrived. Some were rich. Some were handsome. One even brought his family for an introduction. Grace refused them all. Not because she expected Daniel to leave the seminary. But because no one else had touched her soul the way he had. Then came the day of Daniel's priestly ordination. The church was overflowing with people. Choirs sang. Bells rang. Families celebrated. As Daniel lay prostrate before the altar, Grace sat quietly at the back. Her eyes filled with tears. Not tears of anger. Not tears of disappointment. But tears of surrender. At that moment she finally accepted that Daniel no longer belonged to one person. He belonged to God. When the bishop placed his hands upon Daniel's head and he rose as a priest, Grace lowered her face and cried silently. For seven years she had carried a love she could never possess. For seven years she had prayed for a future that was never hers. For seven years she had watched the man she loved walk closer and closer to God. And now the journey was complete. After the Mass, hundreds surrounded the new priest. Grace waited until everyone had gone. Then she approached him. "Congratulations, Father Daniel." Daniel smiled warmly. "Thank you, Grace. You've supported me from the beginning." She fought back tears. "I have one last gift for you." She handed him a small notebook. Inside were seven years of prayers she had written for him. A prayer for every month. A prayer for every struggle. A prayer for every victory. Daniel's hands trembled as he turned the pages. When he looked up, Grace was already walking away. He called her name. She stopped. "Thank you for helping me become the priest God wanted me to be." Grace smiled through her tears. Then she whispered words that Daniel would never forget: "I loved you enough to let God have you." And with that, she walked into the crowd, carrying a broken heart that only Heaven could heal. Sometimes the deepest love is not holding on. Sometimes the deepest love is letting go. 💔🙏🏽 - @homily4theday