A Love Story: When I Fell in Love with Lesia After First Sight

Dear Daelas,

I never believed in love at first sight. I have always believed that we can feel powerful emotions when we first see someone, but since we can experience those same emotions even in dreams, I never considered such moments to be proof of true love. I believed that every man and woman possesses the freedom to choose whom they will love and whom they will take and hold as a spouse.

This conviction only deepened the day I met Lesia.

We met through a mutual friend, as many great romances begin. Manuel was my friend, though he was her brother, and even though he and I had known each other for only two years, he was convinced that she and I were made for each other. I know how cliché that sounds, and the triteness of it was one of the reasons I resisted his well‑intentioned matchmaking for so long.

Not that resisting him was easy. Manuel could sell paper to a tree and water to a fish. He spoke of Lesia constantly, and he was wearing me down.

He and Lesia came from a well‑known family, often photographed by the paparazzi and written about in books that mixed charity with scandal. The things people do for money and fame never cease to amaze me. Manuel, in his generosity, gave me a copy of the authorized biography of their family. Reading the truth about people I had only heard rumors about was refreshing. Their story was not one of fame, but of fidelity. Not one of scandal, but of sacrifice. It was a family marked by suffering, service, and a love that seemed almost otherworldly.

Eve’s greatest mistake was entering into dialogue with the serpent. I said to Manuel, “I read the book you gave me. Your sister seems even more remarkable than you described. She is beautiful, complex, wise, and sophisticated.” Like Eve, I found the object of my attention pleasing to the eye and desirable.

“So, you want to meet her?” he asked.

“I do not know. She seems too high‑maintenance for me, and she is obviously too religious for my liking. You know how I feel about that.”

“Look, just trust me,” Manuel insisted. “Once you meet her, you will forget all of that trivial stuff. You two were destined to fall in love.”

“But have you even told her about me?” I asked.

“Of course I did. She is excited to meet you.”

“Manuel, that sounds ridiculous. Why would your sister, who has everything, be excited to meet someone like me? I have nothing to offer her.”

He stepped close, placed his hands on my shoulders, and spoke directly to my insecurity. “Daviyd, that is exactly why I believe you two are a match made in Heaven. All you have to give her is your love, and all she wants is to be loved.”

As I said, Lesia was a desirable woman, and she seemed to be everything I had been searching for. So I agreed.

It was mid‑February 2006. I had just turned thirty‑four and was still bitter after an eight‑year marriage that ended in a painful divorce.

Manuel arranged for the three of us to attend Sunday Mass at the local St. Joseph parish. But he had to leave town unexpectedly that morning, so I was left to meet her alone. I am not sure that going to Mass qualifies as a first date, and it was not technically a blind date, but was it awkward? Terribly.

Yet Manuel was right. I knew as soon as I walked into the nave. Lesia’s presence filled the room. It was as if she sensed my arrival before we even shook hands. She was the very image of beauty, and her modest attire only magnified the artistry of God.

On television and in magazines, she appeared regal and high‑maintenance, but in person, I felt her humility. It was awe‑inspiring. I had just met a woman I wanted to be like. Imagine a man saying that.

Our first Mass together was unforgettable. For months afterward, I remembered the homily, which was a new experience for me. I found myself speaking about Lesia the way Manuel had, telling everyone about her and introducing her to all my friends.

Our courtship progressed quickly. I told her, “As much as we seem right for each other, I do not think I will ever be able to trust a woman again.” My previous wife had left me when I went to prison for embezzlement, and the wound was still fresh.

I expected Lesia to be upset or to walk away. Instead, she removed my fear with the warmth of her words. “Daviyd, I will never abandon you. I love you. I am here.” I believed her.

When Lesia speaks, your heart knows she is telling the truth. The Spirit of God is truly with her.

One day, while sharing childhood memories, we realized that our paths had crossed before. My grandmother lived near one of her sisters. I remembered riding my bike past their large forest‑green house every summer. For a moment, we wondered what might have happened if we had met as children, but we concluded that this was the hour God had prepared for our love. Do not arouse or stir up love before its time.

When a man is alone, he often thinks about the women whose love he squandered in his youth. I am grateful that I met Lesia after I had become a man.

Lesia has a habit of singing whenever we sit together. It is adorable. I know I sound like a lovesick puppy, but bear with me.

One day, I asked her why she does it. She said, “Because I know you are tone‑deaf, it is good that I share my gifts with you.” She was right. I wish I could sing on key and make a joyful sound in Heaven, but I thank God for the gifts He has given me to share.

Her refinement and family traditions always amused me. In my home, utensils were placed wherever they fit. In hers, everything had a proper place, and the bread was always at the center of the table. Her Middle Eastern heritage placed great emphasis on bread. I would later understand why.

I was not as put off by her religiosity as I expected. Seeing Christ at the center of her life forced me to ask whether I had invited Him to be King over all of my life or only part of it.

When my family learned that Lesia and I were serious, most were supportive, though some were indifferent.

“So you are marrying a Catholic?” my sister asked, shocked. “What happens if you have kids? What will they be? Are they going to worship Mary too?”

I could not understand how people who had never met her could hold so many opinions based on gossip and tabloids. I became a professional defender of my woman. That passion comes naturally when you are in love.

By April, Lesia and I had decided to spend our lives together. I told my daughters and family, and most were ecstatic. She introduced me to her family as well, which I will always treasure.

Her father, whom everyone calls “Father,” is wonderful. Before meeting him, I thought he was aloof, but I soon discovered how intimate and loving he is. He is an extraordinary storyteller.

Her mother is immaculate and full of God’s love. She is a living saint, and Lesia is just like her. Today, it is my joy to call her my mother, too.

I had not seen Manuel since February. He is a peace‑loving, save‑the‑world type who travels constantly. When I finally saw him, he smirked and said, “I told you she was perfect for you.”

“You were right,” I said. “I will never doubt you again.”

I will never forget August 8, 2006, the day I spoke my vows to Lesia in the same building where we first met. Taking the name St. Joseph, I professed before the Ecclesia, “I believe and profess all that the Holy Catholic Church believes, teaches, and proclaims to be revealed by God.” She responded by giving me the kisses of her mouth.

The great thing about being married to Lesia, the Church, is that the housewarming gifts never stop coming. I do not know exactly how our story will end, but I know we will live happily ever after in Heaven, for having known, loved, and served God. This is what we were created to do.