I was very young when I came to live in Steubenville. Physically I was twenty-one, but in other ways I was much younger. I was a naive, bookish, unattractive, neurotic young woman with anxiety, who'd gone to college at not yet sixteen back in my hometown. I graduated cum laude at twenty-one. All that I was good at was going to college, and I didn't know anything to do except keep going to college, so I went to Franciscan University of Steubenville for a Master's degree. I stayed in a dormitory my first year. There was a chapel in the dormitory, but I found it much nicer to pray at the Portiuncula on campus. “The Port” was a tiny stone Eucharistic Adoration chapel built to resemble the church of the same name in Assisi. In spring and summer they prop open the big wooden doors so praying there feels like praying in a shelterhouse in the woods. I stayed in there for hours, meditating, studying, crying sometimes, watching the pillbugs crawl across the flagstones through the dots my tears made. Just outside the chapel was a little stone shrine with a grave marker and a flickering gas light. This was the resting place of several corpses of aborted babies. I would pray there as well, asking for the intercession of the Holy Innocents. The Tomb of the Unborn Child was a construction overseen by Father Mike Scanlan, when he was president of the university. It was a testament to his passion for boldly defending the helpless no matter what criticism he received. The Portiuncula next to it, and the small collection of shrines around the Portiuncula, was the brainchild of Father Mike's dearest friend, the famous Father Sam Tiesi. Father Sam died before I came to Steubenville, and was revered by the students as a real saint. The official canonization process being a mere formality. Father Mike was still alive, though very old; he was now the chancellor of the university and not the president. He was regarded as a living saint, equal to his friend who had gone before him. “I don't know whether I'll be happy or sad when he dies,” said a fervent friend. “But I think I'll be happy. To know he's in Heaven.” I thought that I would be sad.