At least that’s what I thought a week ago.

Last Wednesday, between my second and third helping of food at South Pointe, I saw a student bow his head, clasp his hands and sit silently for moment before making the Sign of the Cross over his food.

Never before had I seen a student openly praying on campus, let alone in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.

Shocked by the concept, I found myself fixating on the student, observing him as if he were an endangered species on a nature show.

My inconsiderate gaze quickly was noticed, clearly making the man uncomfortable and causing him to hurriedly begin eating.

I felt like a jackass. One of the individuals devoted enough to publicly display his religion during these increasingly secular times — on a college campus no less — and I have to make him feel uncomfortable.

I was the reason so few feel comfortable enough to express their spirituality.

But not five minutes after seeing my first lunchtime prayer at MSU, I saw my second.

This student concluded his prayer with a clap — rubbing his hands before exuberantly digging in to his meal.

With that, my mind switched gears: Is this, in fact, a common practice I’ve never taken the time to notice?

Had I been too caught up in myself these past four years to notice the overt spirituality around me?
The events stuck with me — I couldn’t quite shake them. Perhaps it was because not 24 hours earlier I myself prayed for the first time in years.

The day before, my mom had sent me a text message. My uncle was rushed to the hospital to undergo an emergency triple bypass heart surgery, it read. Doctors questioned if his heart was strong enough to survive the surgery.

“We need you to pray.”

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Two weeks prior, I spoke to him briefly on FaceTime as my dad passed his iPad around my youngest brother’s birthday party.

Would the last time I see my uncle be on the screen of my cell phone?

The first thing that came to mind was my cousins, who are not much older than me. They need their dad.

I then thought of my cousin’s two kids. They need their grandpa.

Although I was raised Catholic, faith has not played a large role in my life as of late. More bluntly, the last two times I attended mass were Christmas and Easter with my family — I was at least 30 minutes late to each.

None of that mattered. That night, I slipped into the break room at work and said a prayer. I had to try it.

Within the hour, I received another text from my mom — all was well.

Now, just to set the record straight, I’m not crediting my minute of silence with saving a man’s life. That honor goes to a team of skilled surgeons. If a prayer did play a role, it certainly wasn’t mine.

My mother, on the other hand, she’s someone who deserves to have a prayer answered.

She says at least one prayer a day when she takes our dog for a walk — not to ask for anything, just to say thanks. For health, for family, for a roof and three square meals. For life.

Whether there is a God or some other ominous force in the universe that keeps us all spiritually intertwined, I can’t say. Whether everything happens for a predestined reason or no reason at all, I don’t know.

What I do know is there are too many people, myself included, who take their lives and all they have for granted.

Be it the food on your plate or the beating heart in your chest, if it’s something you have today and could lose tomorrow, you should be thankful.

So whether you’re religious, spiritual, atheist, agnostic or otherwise, take the time — before you eat, before you sleep, once a day, once a week, whenever you get the chance — to think about all the things you have instead of all the things you want. Be thankful while you can.

Kyle Campbell is the sports editor at The State News and a journalism senior. Reach him at campb659@msu.edu.