Getting to Know anthony_Henry

 Faith has always been one of the most important parts of my life, which is why I'm hoping to find a woman who is Catholic, or open to becoming Catholic, so we can build that life together. While many people have told me I would make a good priest or teacher, I always felt called to marriage and family life, which is why becoming a deacon after marriage has long been part of my vision for the future. One of the most meaningful parts of that vision involves my future wife's wedding dress. Rather than storing it away after the wedding, I would love to preserve part of it and have fabric from it incorporated into custom deacon vestments. To me, that symbolizes something beautiful: part of our wedding day continues serving God long after the wedding itself. Every time I wore those vestments, they would be a reminder that my marriage and my service to the Church are not separate callings—they are part of the same journey. 

 If you've made it this far into the page, you've probably already figured out that Christ Be Our Light is my favorite church song. Written by Bernadette Farrell, what I've always loved about the hymn is both its message and its structure. Each verse focuses on a different human need or struggle—darkness, loneliness, peace, justice, or hunger—and then points us toward being part of the solution. Rather than simply describing problems, the song challenges us to bring Christ's light into the world through our actions. The verse about hunger, for example, ends with "bread broken till all are fed," a simple but powerful reminder that faith is not only about what we believe but about how we serve others. To me, the hymn captures one of the most beautiful parts of Christianity: that we are called to be the hands and feet of Christ, bringing hope, compassion, and light to those around us. Every time I hear it, I'm reminded that faith is meant to be lived, not just practiced. 

 The image probably gives this one away, but if I could add one feature to my dream home, it would be a No Shoes, No Stress Entryway. I've always liked the idea that home should feel different from the outside world. Work, traffic, deadlines, bad days, and everyday frustrations all have a way of following us around, but the moment we walk through the front door, I want that feeling to change. In my ideal home, the entryway would be a reminder to leave the stress outside and focus on what matters most inside: faith, family, laughter, and time together. Whether it's me coming home from work, my wife after a long day, or eventually our children, I want our home to be a place where people feel welcomed, supported, and at peace. The feature isn't really about the entryway itself—it's about creating a home that feels like a refuge from the rest of the world. 

Coming Home From Pittsburgh. Most travel stories involve famous landmarks or incredible adventures. Mine involves a Red Robin, terrible service, and one of the funniest things my dad has ever said. On the drive home from Pittsburgh, the service was so bad that when my dad asked for toilet paper, the manager simply giggled and walked away carrying a roll. Without missing a beat, my dad looked at her and said, "Ah, a display model." The entire situation was absurd, but that one comment instantly transformed a frustrating stop into a family story we've laughed about ever since. 

 In my friend group, I'm usually the one telling the stories. If something funny, awkward, unusual, or memorable happened during the week, chances are I'm already halfway through the recap before anyone asks. I enjoy bringing energy to conversations, setting the scene, adding the details that make people laugh, and turning everyday moments into stories worth sharing. I'm definitely not the quiet observer in the corner—I'm usually the one keeping the conversation moving and making everyone feel like they were there when it happened. 

 There are plenty of places I'd still like to see, but two adventures have always stood out to me. The first is taking a train from New York all the way to California and then back again, seeing the country the way generations of travelers once did—one landscape at a time. The second is a Mississippi River cruise, slowly traveling through a part of America filled with history, culture, and stories. Neither trip is really about reaching a destination. What appeals to me is the journey itself: watching the scenery change, meeting interesting people, and experiencing parts of the country that most travelers simply fly over. To me, the best adventures aren't always the fastest ones—they're the ones that give you time to appreciate the ride.