If Los Angeles is the City of Angels, then New York City might just be the City of Saints.

There are the familiar names: Mother Cabrini, Dorothy Day, Isaac Jogues, John Neumann, and, of course, Elizabeth Ann Seton.

But the real secret of the city lies in those whose names are known only in heaven, the quiet heroes of the faith who love fiercely, serve humbly, and go largely unnoticed by the world.

Unless you happened to be riding a certain subway car last week. Because if you were, you might’ve witnessed something miraculous: an entire car full of young adults, laughing, chatting, practically glowing with anticipation. Most of them had just arrived in New York for the first time. They hadn’t come to sightsee or chase careers. They were here to give a year of their lives to serve in Seton Education Partners’ mission: to teach, to love, and to bring hope to inner-city kids.

They were here to be missionaries. I spent the day photographing this incredible group, nearly 60 recent college graduates, as they kicked off their journey with a day-long pilgrimage and retreat across the city.

They came from every corner of the country. Some had never even ridden a subway before. By Monday, they’d be teaching math, reading and science in charter schools across the South Bronx, living in intentional community while earning their teaching credentials.

We ended the day at St. Joseph’s in Greenwich Village — a parish that’s quietly becoming one of the beating hearts of Catholic young-adult life in the city. And when we walked in, there it was: a sky-high stack of pizzas from John’s of Bleecker Street. As a native New Yorker, let me just say, if you know, you know. John’s isn’t just pizza. You don’t just stumble into a pie from John’s. You wait for it. You fight for it. But that day? There was enough for an army. And I couldn’t think of a more deserving group to receive it.

Seton Education Partners is a nonprofit bringing high-quality, faith-centered education to underserved communities. In neighborhoods where schools have failed and hope has thinned, Seton’s networks of charter schools (Brilla and Brillante) and Catholic schools (Romero Academies) offer academics grounded in virtue — and a chance for families to dream again.

But it’s the Seton Teaching Fellows who make it personal. These young men and women sign up for a one- to two-year post-grad mission.

They teach. They evangelize. They witness.

In neighborhoods known more for headlines than hope, they become living signs of Christ’s love.

During adoration that afternoon, I looked around and saw it in their faces, unmistakable. A clarity of purpose. A love for Christ that was unshaken, even at the threshold of what would be a beautiful, demanding, sacrificial year.

These aren’t just volunteers. They’re future saints.

While on assignment a few years ago, the first time I encountered the work of the Seton Education Partners, I met a young mother. She lived in the projects — single, struggling — with four young children. Her oldest daughter, just 8 years old, attended a Brilla school.

That little girl led her siblings in prayer before meals. She taught her mom the Rosary. She asked if they could start going to Mass together. And so they did. Now the family attends Sunday Mass. They have joy, they have direction, and they have hope.

It wasn’t a grand theological argument or flashy event that led them back to the Church. It was the quiet witness of a Seton fellow who taught a little girl, who led her family home. That’s what this mission looks like.

The truth is, most of the world will never hear about this. They’ll never know about the subway ride filled with joyful missionaries. They won’t see the kneeling figures in adoration. They won’t witness the baptisms, the tears, the hard-won math lessons, or the whispered prayers over a struggling child’s desk.

But I’ve seen it. This is the Catholic Church. This is faith lived out. This is Christ healing and calling and sending and creating the saints of tomorrow, today.

So if you ask me what holiness looks like in the heart of New York City, it looks like young adults giving everything they have, fueled by faith, ready to teach and love, and serve. It looks like a little girl praying the Rosary in a kitchen in the projects. And, sometimes, holiness looks like a subway full of joy ending with a mountain of New York’s best pizza.