Reflection of Being Catholic

People who are raised Catholic, would know what I mean when I say most parents of newborns will have their babies baptized into the faith very young, probably within the first 6 months after birth. I was a late bloomer. When I was 6 years old, my grandparents gained full custody of me, and being that my mother had never done anything to introduce me into the family's religion, my grandparents did not waste any time in having me baptized. Being that I was not baptized until I was six, I immediately had to take Sunday school classes for my First Reconciliation and my First Holy Communion. When I was in second grade I was already altar server, which was not an opportunity for kids until they were in fifth grade. Grade school kids who were altar servers helped with simple duties during mass such as processing in with candles, holding the prayer book for the priest to read from, etc. As a kid, I placed a lot of importance on my faith; it was really all I had. My mother was a drug addict and had left me alone worrying about what she was doing days at a time, so then my grandparents came to my rescue. With all the misfortunes in my life, religion was a means of hope and happiness. By third grade, my grandparents had me attend to St. Hughes, a Catholic school. I was saying my prayers at night, something that most kids probably would not have time for. As I continued to grow and mature, it was only typical that I encountered such problems as being out casted amongst students in class, and heartbreaks over boys throughout high school. I usually turned to prayer for relief and comfort. As life in general continued to get me down and bring me heartache, I came to the realization that perhaps there was not a God, or if there was, I had no idea how my prayers and church-going would help me. By the time I was a junior, I had stopped going to church (except for when there was holiday mass.) I considered myself uncertain at this point. I had gone from church going altar