It seems like not long ago that we stepped into Padua for the first time, unsure how we were going to survive the anxious transition into high school. Now, we stand as a body of confident and determined young women. The community around us has shaped our experiences here, but in addition to the many influential people, prayer has been a cornerstone of our education. Three prayers in particular come to mind when I reflect on my time spent here.
Any student of room 108 will immediately recognize the Serenity Prayer, often nervously recited before an Algebra I or Precalc test. For those who are unfamiliar with the petition, it simply reads, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Whether said on the starting line of a race or backstage before a show, this prayer reflects our trust in ourselves, each other, and our faith.
Padua has imparted a diverse set of lessons to prepare us for the winding road ahead. In the process, we were pushed out of our comfort zones and into positions of leadership and responsibility. As a result of these lessons, I believe that this assembly of young women is the model for redefining what is achievable. Our class marked the beginning of the first-ever girls high school flag football league in Delaware. I remember the inception of flag football at Padua, which started in our junior year by a few girls who had a dream, and with true Salesian perseverance, organized a team of 40 eager players and four coaches. Following the Serenity Prayer’s counsel, these girls saw an opportunity for change and seized it. As a result, I watched childhood aspirations come true in these high school games.
The flag football team taught our entire community an invaluable lesson: the importance of dreaming big and pursuing our dreams into reality.
Other lessons, however, were harder to learn, the ones that the Serenity Prayer calls us to accept with grace. Each student here today learned how to fail. High school, unfortunately, is not the end of our struggles. In college, we will all fail. We will take a class that is exponentially harder than expected, yes, even harder than AP Physics. We will try new clubs that aren’t meant for us, or we will get lost on a campus much more complicated than our square box. It is my hope, Class of 2026, that we remember the failures we encountered in high school, and then we remember sitting here graduating. In the disappointment, we gained tenacity and perseverance. Each failure, no matter how large it felt in the moment, did not define us then and will not define us in the future.
The nest prayer, the one we know by heart, is St. Francis de Sales’ Direction of Intention. This prayer offers each action to God, which inevitably calls us to a higher standard of performance and a higher purpose in our lessons. As I look around at my peers today, I see incredibly motivated and passionate young women with the drive to take on the world. I see future engineers, artists, reporters, doctors, lawyers and beyond — whose passions were ignited inside the Big Box of Love. But in all of us, and most importantly, I see young women who will seek and follow God’s plan for their lives.
One of the reasons that I love the St. Francis de Sales prayer is the uncertainty that it holds. The prayer simply asks for grace and guidance regardless of the task ahead of us. At the beginning of our high school career, we entered the Big Box of Love full of unknowns. We didn’t know who our friends would be, or whether or not we would survive the four flights of stairs. We didn’t know that smiles in the hallway would become the favorite parts of our days. These smiles brought brightness after a difficult class and helped us get through our quiet struggles. As we enter college, it is the unknowns that we should be most excited about. There is only so much that we can control, but instead of fearing the uncertainties of college, our experiences at Padua have taught us that these are the factors that will matter most.
For the past year, I have walked into the senior class officer homeroom every morning at 9:15. Some mornings, I’ve walked in energized and motivated for the day, but other mornings, I’ve walked in to wondering how it’s still Tuesday when I swear it should be Friday. Regardless of my state of mind, one quote on the wall consistently echoes the Direction of Intention. Inspiring me to make the most of each day. The quote from author Mary Oliver reads, “Tell me what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Class of 2026, we do not need to know the answer to this question, but instead embrace its uncertainty with excitement and trust in God’s plan. With his help, may we embrace each triumph with humility and accept every defeat with fortitude.
Finally, no prayer better describes the community fostered by the Class of 2026 than the Prayer of St. Francis, otherwise known as the Peace Prayer. For those who do not recognize this cherished prayer by its title, it begins with the words, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love.” This prayer is carved in large wooden letters at the entrance of Padua, and it has been ingrained in my mind these past four years. The Class of 2026 made our first unforgettable mark at our sophomore year spirit assembly, shocking the school with iconic coordinated outfits. Since that moment, we have flourished in our support, enthusiasm and genuine care for each other.
Individual accomplishments were proudly celebrated across the whole class, and class accomplishments were more meaningful because of the shared contributions. This love that St. Francis of Assisi calls us to spread is evident in each student here today, and it is largely the reason for our collective success. The connection described in the Peace Prayer was not formed in an instant, through luck, or grounded on a superficial basis, but rather, is the result of a difficult process. Learning to lean on each other. As young women preparing to step into a competitive world, we tend to embrace individuality and attempt to solve our problems alone. Failure showed us that we need our sisterhood. We leaned on our classmates, most memorably while studying for the classwide junior-year religion tests. These exams were designed to test not only course material but also critical thinking regarding morality, and these because a regular opportunity to for class connection and support for each other.
What seemed to us as sharing study guides and nervously quizzing each other were the little moments that really taught us big lessons: no challenge in life is meant to be conquered alone. The Peace Prayer perfectly details this type of support, and it is one that our community is proud to exemplify. Each difficult class felt less overwhelming because we faced it together. Each daunting game felt more manageable with our teammates beside us, and each spotlight felt less blinding with our peers standing together on stage. As we all go off to college, our sisterhood is not scattered, no lost, and most definitely not broken, but instead, our accomplishments will be celebrated regardless of the miles between us.
In these last months leading up to this moment, my classmates and I have felt the whirlpool of emotions, most often the bittersweet realization that we are closing a door that will never be fully opened again.
The idea that we will no longer sit with our friends at lunch in the cafeteria, meet together for AST at the end of a long school day, or see our best friends in the stairwell is enough to make anyone feel nostalgic. In a community that has done so much for us, it is inevitable to feel called to give back to those around us. The challenge is now bringing our love of neighbor and sense of service to unfamiliar places, with unfamiliar people, where it becomes impossible to know whether our light will be reciprocated. The sisters with whom we have grown alongside will no longer be just a hallway away, so this next lesson is one of independence.
We are in the process of learning to leave everything dear to us, embarking on a mission to use our talents and to “light our world.” As an avid Boston sports fan, I cannot pass up the opportunity to share a motto frequently cited by Patriots legend Tom Brady, who reminds us that, “We didn’t come this far to only come this far.” Class of 2026, we have developed into incredible young women, but this is only the beginning.
The world awaits our talents, so go. Go into new schools and show them your work ethic and passions. Go into new communities and reveal to them what it truly means to have someone’s back for life. Go into the dark places and bring them the light of Christ that was lit within our four walls.
As we progress on ot the next chapter of our lives, may we always remember the community that formed us and continues to support us. Although far from the school that we have called home for the past few years, Padua’s love extends beyond Broom Street. As I look at the graduates before me, I urge you: embrace the road ahead, but never forget the place where it all started. May we take the lessons we have learned and the connections we have formed into each of our future endeavors as we face every experience “softly but strongly.”
