Warning: This is a spoiler alert for anyone who has not gone on Kairos yet. And if you don't have the chance to go on Kairos, it may make you a bit jealous.

Attending Scranton Prep, or any other Jesuit Catholic school for that matter, makes for a number of traditions. There's the obvious years of theology and/or Latin classes and school masses. There's the large number of community service hours to do. Then, there's my absolute favorite tradition — the Kairos retreat.

Many of you may be wondering what a Kairos is; but giving a definition is much too complex. The only way I can make you understand is by relating some of my experiences and what I learned about myself and in general during that four-day period.

The motto is, "Doubt the first, cry the second, trust the third and live the fourth." We are all strategically placed in groups with classmates, a student leader and a faculty leader. The ultimate goal is to build an everlasting bond with these people — and I did just that.

My retreat was in early December of my senior year and I had no idea what was in store. In school, Kairos was a huge secret because no one wanted to be the person to ruin the experience for the others. I am glad this happened, because I may not have enjoyed the retreat as much as I did otherwise.

Doubt the first.

Faculty did a great job of making sure each group of students had a mixture of every "crowd": the athlete, the mathlete, the shy one, the class clown and the one that doesn't really belong to a group. I considered myself one of those people who were never put in a group. I didn't play sports, I was not very good at math and I was not a shy person. If anything, I was the girl who always laughed at the class clown.

I was confused as to why I was put in a group with people that I did not interact with on a daily basis, but I tried to make the best of an awkward situation. I quickly learned my first lesson (so cliche): do not judge a book by its cover. Underneath the given label is a person with real emotions and possibly a different side that he or she does not get to show in school.

Cry the second.

The second day is where the retreat gets real. Students are taken down to a dimly lit room; faculty leaders are situated in the front of the room. One by one, a letter is read to each and every student from a parent or guardian. It gets emotional hearing words from our parents that they may not express on a daily basis.

My letter began with something like, "January 9, 1996, was the day when my life changed forever," and I instantly began tearing up. I was so caught up in listening that I almost missed the last line that read, "Love, your father". This made the letter all the more heartfelt because I expected it to be from my mom the entire time.

After all of the letters were read, I had the opportunity to open a large envelope with letters from my mom, classmates, student and faculty leaders and even people that graduated in the years before us. Reading these kind words taught me another lesson: I am loved and appreciated. Of course I knew this from my family and close friends, but I now know that even the people I rarely talk to care about me. It is an awesome feeling.

Trust the third.

As if the second day wasn't draining and emotional enough, the third day is all about trusting and confiding in your group members. I remember still being a bit apprehensive about sharing my personal life with them, even though we all cried like babies together the night before.

This was all changed once they began sharing their stories. I was in awe of how open and comfortable they felt after only two days. The night ended with us praying for each other. I have always been a spiritual person, but this retreat taught me how to channel my spirituality into my writing and beyond. We had personal journals to write in throughout the entire retreat; I used mine every chance I got.

Now I make sure to pray every day, not only for myself and my family, but for anyone in my life who needs a prayer. My spirituality runs deeper now than ever before.

Live the fourth.

Over two years later, I am still "living the fourth." This statement refers to the fourth and final day of the retreat, when we take everything we have learned and apply it to our lives. I may not have been the biggest fan of high school, but Kairos made it all worthwhile. The experience taught me not to judge someone before I get to know them, that I am loved more than I'll ever know and how to be more spiritual in whatever I do. These lessons are unmatched.