A non-Italian kid earlier.
We got off to a shaky start here, and for a few hours there I was sort of mad that I did not seem to be batting .1000 any longer on my accommodations selections. Things turned around, although this has certainly been the bumpiest section of our trip so far - nothing serious, just...not smooth. Which is fine. We've all learned a few things.
But all is well. I am really trying to teach my children the lesson that every place you go, whether you want to be there or not, whether it is optimal or planned or not...there are interesting people, observations to make, bits of a big world to learn about. I'm trying to absorb that lesson too, obviously.
For although this is not perfect and is different than our other landing pads, there have been characters galore to encounter - all of them friendly, speaking anywhere from zero to almost no English, whose interesting life stories I can pick up bits and pieces of in our efforts to communicate. I do believe we are the only native English speakers for miles and in two full days on the sand, the only non-Italians on the beach.
Besides my family, the things in life I am most energized by are the sea and learning new things. So I am fairly content.
A bit of randomness:
They secure the tiles with rocks. Is that the purpose here?Am I right?
One of the other children here is named Giacomo. Michael could not quite remember his name, so he spent part of their first time together calling him, "Jackaboy"
A horse passed by my room this morning, I swear it. I thought it was hammering, but then it came closer, but had passed before I could haul the blinds open. I tried to explain and ask about this at breakfast, but even the two barely-English speakers were very confused by what I was saying and thought I was asking where I could go ride a horse, and had the host come over and very helpfully explain that I could go to Pozzallo for that purpose. I gave up, but later saw horse droppings in the road, and so felt vindicated, at least in my own mind.
And so this evening, after all of this and more, and two very perfect beach days, we were able to literally walk around the corner and go to Mass here:
The local parish has Mass at this location during July and August for the tourists. They prayed the rosary beforehand, and while we had not quite gotten ourselves together by then, we could hear it over the PA system. It was quite something to be able to enter into this prayer by the sea, as the sun was setting. I have seen some beautiful churches over the past few weeks, and this was one of them. It was the best reason to have been led here, right now.
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Non-Italian kid? I don't know... that's a very Italian gesture he's making. ;)
Read your posts on prickly pears and transient sanctuaries, enjoyed the vistas and smiled, and clicked distractedly in the search to satisfy my 'spiritual' itch... and had to come back, after reading this:
St. Paul was bothered by his thorn in the flesh, and so came to understand that when he was weak in himself, then he was strong in Christ.
Suppose, though, we are strong enough in ourselves, at least for day to day living.
(Though whether any of us are actually strong enough in ourselves, and not merely deceiving ourselves about what discipleship demands of us, is another question.) Then, even if we make it through this life without collapsing, we'll still have failed to be the channels of God's power in the world that He intends us to be.
It seems that we can be strong in ourselves, or strong in Christ, and Christ leaves the choice to us. Pray for the grace to make the right choice!"
http://disputations.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html#3455478141775422944
Intentional or not, Christ is evoked in your apt vacation snapshots and recording lived experience, ringraziamento!
Reading of you hearing the rosary on a loud speaker from a distance then going to mass at the shore brought tears to my eyes.
The Lord is with you always.
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