Mini-Miracles...Or Something of the Like

Out to dinner with my Dad, we got to talking about how fitting it is that I was able to spend four months in Rome. He made a comment about how it was no surprise to him that everything fell into place and that I should never doubt my reason for being there because of all the little things that have happened in my life.

What do you mean?

I knew this needed a little more probing and that his answer would be good.

He proceeded to remind me of some little (but really...big) mini-phenomenons that have shown us the guiding hand of God. I couldn't stop smiling as he recounted stories like running into a man who had a map with the exact route we needed to get me to the convent I entered after high school. Or when we were driving the 12 hours to said convent and there was not a single drop of rain the whole way there and back. Or how about skipping forward a couple years to the time when I considered not going to Rome due to a lack of finances and only a day later found a refund check for the two extra credits the University charged? And on top of that, receiving a scholarship from an alumnae association a great-aunt was a membership of!

He was spot-on when he said something along the lines of, "When these kinds of things happen to you all the time, you start to think it's no big deal...but if you stop and think about it, they're really like miracles!"

There is one story from Rome that takes the cake, according to my parents. So much so, that my Mom was the first one to say, "Did you tell that story on your blog? Because you should!!"



As per request of my mother, here goes:



The story begins in my Fall Semester. Due to my clumsiness, I misplaced a key ring that had some of my favorite medals on it: a cross from a retreat, a little heart with "Serenity prayer" inscribed, a St. John Paul the Great/Our Lady of Czestochowa, and a Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta. I had them on a key ring because the chain around my neck was getting too heavy. :)

At any rate, I was really bummed about this, but resigned to the fact that as with all the medals I lose, someone who finds it may need it more.

And so, life moved on. From time to time, I would miss the medals, but there's not much more I could do - I had asked the Lost & Found on campus, but to no avail. I don't know if "Frozen" was in theaters by then, but I had to just Let it Go, right?




Sooner or later, I found myself riding in a European public bus with a group of 24 other students from my University. By this point, I had already accumulated different medals from the holy places I visited. Some of these medals I kept for myself and would put on one of the key rings attached to my back pack.

In the midst of dreamily gazing out the dirty window, I hear a voice from behind: "Hey Liz, do you know anyone else who puts medals on a key chain like that?"

I thought about this..."Not really...I think I'm the only one who does. At least, I haven't seen anybody else do it, now that I think about it. Maybe there's a couple people, though, because I don't know where I got the idea from."

"Well, I found these medals attached to a key chain back on the home campus a while ago..."

...

I was like:

"You're kidding!! Does it have a big retreat cross on it?!" She nodded. "Those are mine! I was looking for them forever! Did you bring them with?"

MoDo* explained to me that she was looking for the owner during the Fall, and when she hadn't found who they belonged to, she decided to bring them to Rome with her so that she could touch them to all of the holy places she visited. She said, "Now you can have them and continue to take them with you!" 

And so I did! They stayed with me until the end and made it safely back to the States.

Praise God for His kindness and generosity even in the smallest of things! My Dad was right, it's bizarre that I would lose these medals only to have them returned to me while I was across the ocean and by a person who was searching for me because we ended up studying in Rome the same semester! What are the odds of that happening? When I first told the story to my parents, I was nonchalant about it all, simply because it was neat. As I watched my parents' reactions and their awe of it all, I discovered that yes - indeed - it is spectacular. In my journey with the Lord, my days can be full of these tiny, little, mini-miracles. Last night at dinner, I saw a child-like joy in my father as he recounted my own stories of mini-miracles that have affected him. This is what I was hoping for after I returned from Rome: a re-evangelization of my family and friends, of my loved ones. I have great hope for the way the Lord wants to work in and through me - using me as His instrument - being a living example of the JOY that comes from a life lived with and for Christ.

Jesus meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine; and may I never let the monotony of life overcome my awe and wonder at Your abundant Love in all things big and small.

*MoDo was the nickname the Rome group gave her, and it subsequently hides her identity! Killing two birds with one stone...:)

The L*** of ROMA

**Disclaimer: It took me quite a while to think this post through...and even a longer while to publish it! 

There are precisely 76 hours (or 3 days) until I step foot in the United States. On our Rome Campus, we’ve decided not to use the “L” word…LAST.

For one, this may not be my L*** time in Rome. I am confident that I will come back here one day. Who knows why, with whom, what for, and for how long? There’s this confidence in me that I am not saying my final “goodbye.”

Well, I could go on and on about all the emotions and feelings I’ve gone through this past week…but I’ll spare you the melodrama of my life. I will say, though, that we were not spared from the usual stress that comes around finals week. As any other professional procrastinator, I left much of my schoolwork for the last days of the semester. The only difference is that I also went through the self-induced pressure of feeling the need to see EVERYTHING in Rome…

It took me about a day or two to stop and think, “Really?” The discovery was glorious: I have seen almost all of the sites on my “to-see” list. The only place I wanted to spend my L*** days in Rome was St. Peter’s Square/St. Peter’s Basilica.

Makes sense, doesn’t it? My heart longs to be home, my Catholic Home…the reason I came here in the first place!

What exemplifies this best is that Mo & I went to St. Peter’s at night – just like the first night we were here, four months ago. I hadn’t been sentimental until this point…she brought me over to the spot where our director reminded us that Jesus Christ is the reason why we’re here. He talked about how this semester was going to push us, but help us to grow. Mo and I reflected on how there really is no other word to describe our experience here than “magical.” As Disney-coated as that sounds, it’s true! The peace that comes while sitting in front of one of the most magnificent man-made buildings as it lights up the Square during the night is unimaginable. I’m thankful for the friends I’ve made here, especially for Mo. Her and I have shared the desire to look for the Lord wherever we go. It’s always a blessing when you can have deep friendships like this. The L*** Sunday in Rome was spent with her, but we were blessed with yet another opportunity to visit St. Peter’s at night…

Wednesday was technically our final day in Rome. We were all a little anxious as to how stressful it may be. We woke up bright and early, leaving for the Holy Father’s General Audience at 5:30am. My prior experience to crowds in St. Peter’s Square was not a positive ones; I was tempted to get out of line and just watch the Audience from a distance. Praise God that I didn’t because He really treated His children that morning! We all agreed that it was the most peaceful crowd we’ve been in so far. We were able to make it to the front row of the general seating area, where our excitement grew waiting for Papa Francesco’s arrival. I had brought my binoculars – my first and L*** time using them – and it was so cool to be able to see Papa through them. His message that morning was on Marriage and the family.

My Mom had sent me 9 “Worry Crosses” that my grandpa – woodworker as a hobby – had made. I am bringing 8 of them home, blessed by the Pope, leaving one in Rome with him. It was easy to put it into a package with a letter, and I was able to hand it to one of Papa’s guard’s as they came by to greet the crowd. ** After I arrived home, I discovered that L'Osservatore Romano, the Official Vatican Newspaper, had snapped a shot of "the exchange." Amazing!

If you look real close, you can see me handing off the package!

Before we left, we made sure to take a group picture, all of us wearing our Università di Maria ROMA shirts. It was so great to be able soak in the moment with my group.

After the Audience, we went back to campus to have lunch and to do our major cleaning. I was inspired by how much effort everyone chipped in to make the place clean for the next group arriving early May. Self-gift shown through community is always beautiful.

Our L*** “hoo-rah” for the group was Community Night on the town. We patiently waited for our tride-and-true 870 Bus, all dressed up for the occasion. Our Campus Ministry team was also patiently waiting for us at the restaurant where we had our reservations. The meal went on as per usual, beginning with a welcome and prayer by Fr. AssistantChaplian. We had appetizing bruschetta, delicious carbonara pasta, finished with some tasty pork and potatoes.

Then came the time for “the toasts.” The funny thing about my Rome group is that we love tradition, at times a bit too much. Before the night had even begun, everyone was talking about these toasts that we would have to give at the end of the meal. I don’t believe in forcing anyone into traditions like these, and tried to suggest that we let it come naturally. So this was all in my mind as our meal was coming to an end: Who’s going to start the toasts? Maybe we’ll have a little prayer by Fr. Chaplain and then he’ll welcome anyone to toast…should I go first?

St. Joan, pray for us!

But it was even better than that. One of the members of our group, who was chosen to be the RA for the semester, stood up with our RD to announce that they had been praying about patron saints for everyone since the beginning of the semester. They had individual saints and saint medals for each person, mine was St. Joan of Arc. Our RD said that she was an obvious choice as she was always fighting for Christ and it reminded him of my goal to be on the frontlines, teaching in the public sector.  Because of this, I have made her the patron saint of my career.

Following our saint assignments, it was time to say goodbye to our Campus Ministry team. The team consisted of seminarians, priests, and deacons who are studying at the Pontifical North American College. All throughout the semester they have been a solid constant of support and love. They have taught us, laughed with us, shared stories with us, and given their individual time to us. I hope to keep in touch with them, as they have touched my heart. Because it was past their curfew, we decided that our whole group would give toasts back on campus. So next, we went out for gelato at our favorite shop, The Fridgidarium (aka, the Fridge). I got my two favorite flavors, Stracciatella and Chaciolato Fondente. YUM.

Our final stop was the place we will always call home, St. Peter’s Basilica. I was amazed, yet again, by the peace I felt. We stood outside the gates and someone had suggested that we give our toasts right then and there. So we did! I’m sure it was a precious sight, a bunch of young adults gathered around in a circle facing the Basilica, listening to one person at a time and trying hard not to cry (some of us failing epically!). After everyone had said what was on their heart, we brought it in for a group hug. The general consensus of the toasts was that there is nobody else we would have chosen to experience this semester with. And I agree. I know and believe that God brought each and every single one of the Rome Spring Group together and we will always have the bond of experiences abroad: the joys, the sorrows, the struggles, the accomplishments, the stresses, the goofiness, the openness, and the love – the constant flow of love!

My faith has been renewed. My personality has deepened. My realization of God’s love for me has been experienced through the beauty abroad. I thank God for making this happen, and I thank my parents for helping me every step of the way. Their support is never failing and I am forever grateful.

Ciao, Roma!

Until next time…

Lord, thank You for the blessings, the graces, and the love that You pour upon us Your children. Open our hearts so that we may always praise Your name!

Pasqua a Roma: Easter in Rome

This is it. Really, the moment has arrived and it snuck up on me like a deer hiding among the trees when I drive along the highway. Except, unlike a deer who could stop dead in its tracks, Easter in Rome would come and go whether I chose to participate or not.

Thankfully, I jumped in with both feet. Holy Week started with Palm Sunday Mass in Lourdes, France. Shout-out to Our Lady of Lourdes – this gem of France is worthy of its own post! We made it safely back to Rome and were into the swing of things by the time Monday rolled around. We were done with classes on Wednesday, and at that point it still hadn't really hit me that the climax of my semester abroad was quickly approaching. It still hadn't really hit me that this is precisely the reason why I, along with so many of my peers, chose the Spring Semester Rome Program. And it still hadn't really hit me that we were going to have the privilege of celebrating Mass with the Pope. Mass with the Pope!

Honestly, I was nervous at first. My first and only Papal event that included tickets was a Wednesday General Audience, in which Papa Francesco greets the general public and gives a little Catholic “pep-talk” so to speak. Anyway, the crowds can get pretty forceful – I mean people shove so hard that you barely have to move a muscle. Needless to say, Papal events have the least crowd control I've ever experienced. But like I said, Holy Week would come and go whether I decided to take the opportunity or leave it.

Come Thursday morning’s Chrism Mass, the plan was to leave campus at 7:00 so that we could be in line at St. Peter’s Square by 8:00. We spent our time in line building community by devising a plan to prevent others from budging us in line. This was serious business because we witnessed three people casually budge in front of our group! So we stuck close together and I called it “closing the gaps.” We made our way inside St. Peter’s Basilica and found a seat, constantly sitting down and standing up as the crowd thought that the Holy Father was processing in. Turns out that 1) it was still an hour before Mass, and 2) every time the choir sang it was to accompany the 3,000 priests as they processed in. Eventually Papa Francesco did process in, and it was beautiful. Him and his altar servers were the presence of peace in the midst of the crowd of photo-snapping civilians. 

Of course, the Mass was awe-inspiring. It was yet another opportunity to make me stop and question, “Why me?” Witnessing the year’s blessing of the Chrism Oils and witnessing the priests renew their priestly vows was pretty great. Receiving Jesus Christ in the Eucharist inside of St. Peter’s was a moment I’ll never forget.

There are so many spiritual traditions within the Catholic Church. My new favorite has to be visiting the Altars of Repose after Holy Thursday Mass. One of our Rome Campus Ministry chaplains, Fr. Samson, invited us to Holy Thursday Mass at his residence, Casa Santa Maria, in the smallest, most elegant chapel. Following Mass, we had enjoyed dinner together at a restaurant along the way to our first chapel. We then visited seven churches to make the pilgrimage for the intentions of the Holy Father. We visited Jesus present in the beautiful altars of repose. Father told us that we didn’t have to necessarily say anything to Our Lord, He just asks us – as He did the Apostles that holy night of Agony – to “stay here and keep watch with Me.” And as a side-note: Plenary Indulgence bonus for the win! J

 It feels strange for me to say that this pilgrimage was the highlight of my Holy Week, my “Easter in Rome.” After all, if Easter Mass with the Pope was the primary reason for my being here and now, how could this unexpected and unplanned event make the top of my list?

But then again, this whole semester has been full of ways that God flipped around my expectations to open my eyes and my heart to my true desires. I have a Confession to make, though: I didn't stay for Mass at St. Peter’s on Sunday morning. I dodged out of the down-pouring rain to make it over to the English-speaking Mass at Santo Spiritu. With every tap of the key in that sentence, I can hear the gasps of my family and friends: “Why did you leave the Easter Mass with the Pope?!”

(My favorite altar at the chapel of the Bridgettine Sisters)

My heart was telling me that I wanted to fully participate in the Easter celebration. Christ has risen from the dead and if he hadn't, I wouldn't be here at all! I give props to the others in my group who were real troopers and were able to witness the beautiful Easter Mass at St. Peter’s.

If I can redeem myself, I did make sure to hear the Urbi et Orbi** and receive Papa’s special Easter blessing. Counts for something, right? 

On a final note, I am truly grateful that the Lord taught me how to celebrate with my Rome family – in our little home away from home, as a community of laughter and love.

Lord, open my eyes and my heart to see the abundant blessings of Your infinite love.

**Check out the rare blessing that the Holy Father gives only twice a year (Easter & Christmas) - he spoke passionately about the need to pray for the persecuted Christians.

Le Tour de Paris

No, not particularly...

I've never really had a desire to go to Paris. I know numerous people who would love to be here. But me? No, not particularly. After hopping from one country to another during spring break, I really wanted to go back to Rome. A sense of security and stability sounded really nice at the beginning of last week. Also, I had this preconceived notion of Paris being too over-the-top for me, too materialistic.

Of course, life (or God, in this case) always has a surprise just around the corner. In other words:

"We know that in everything God works for good with those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose." 

-Romans 8:36

I started off the activities of the week just going through the motions. I always regret this kind of thing in retrospect. My spring break crew of two an I had arrived late to the Rome group dinner, so I was tired and hungry but also worn out from the anxiety of running late...after all, we didn't want to miss out on a free dinner in Paris! I admit that I wasn't very lively at the mini-reunion. I went straight to our director and asked him if we could still eat with everyone and he pointed me to our table. As I passed the large tables and joyful faces, it took all I had in me to avoid the temptation to run straight for the food. I'm not the type who likes hugs, so I was subtle in my reunion embraces. The best example I can offer is that a friend reached out her hand to me, exclaiming my name, and I just gave her a hand hug because I had exceeded my hug limit for that day.*

Notre Dame

But before I get too carried away with just this kick-start of the trip, keep that image in mind as I uncover the truth that was hanging over me all week.

Notre Dame Cathedral. 

Eiffel Tower.

Sainte-Chapelle.

Manufacture Gobelins (aka: a real  tapestry/weaving factory...like the "olden days").

Louvre Museum (aka: home of the world-famous Mona Lisa...among so many great works of art).

These main sights of Paris are most definitely worth seeing. Though of course, I refused to give my body enough sleep due to the modern crisis of attachment to the internet. And as we all know, when you're tired, the brain doesn't function as well as when you're rested. Thus, I walked around these beautiful landmarks in a zombie-like state. 

Sainte-Chapelle

The irony of it all is that I was fully aware of the state of my consciousness. I kept telling Mo that I wish I could appreciate the excursions, but instead all I wanted was to go back to our hotel and "veg-out" (as my Romie roomie calls it) all day.

But, vuala! Alas! It was on Friday, as I walked through the Claude Monet exhibit in a museum for class, I was revived by the breath of fresh air of Monet's paintings. I had forgotten that I learned about him in high school, and I loved how he portrays the nature that he observed first-hand. This simple exhibit was all I needed to have a renewed excitement about being in Paris. Once I found out that there was an official Monet museum, I made plans with a few friends to visit his collection on the weekend.

My favorite: Water Lily Pond, by Claude Monet

And it has only gone uphill since then. I've been telling everyone that seeing Claude Monet's paintings gave me a new hope for my time in Paris because his appreciation for beauty in nature is something that I can relate to. It's almost better than the "ideal beauty" that is portrayed in the perfect bodies and perfect architecture that I've seen in every other church (Rome, Paris, and the like). Monet is the kind of artist I aspire to be, simply because the beauty of God found in nature is what I love to paint myself!

In addition, I found out where the Shrine of the Miraculous Medal and the Shrine of St. Vincent de Paul were - so of course we had to visit these holy places, too! But maybe that's another post for another day.

Au revoir!

Moral of the story: I've finally found something to love about Paris, even if it goes against the grain. As cheesy as it is, if you search long and hard enough, there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel...





Lord, guide me by your loving hand!




*My hug limit, by the way, is probably no more than three per day...but I'm always willing to adjust to the circumstances. :)

Siena, Italy - Week Six

There are times when I visit a Catholic Church and I think, “Catholics are kind of weird…” Our visit to Siena was one of those times.

Shrine where St. Catherine's
head is kept

When St. Catherine of Siena died, somebody somewhere thought it was a good idea to separate her body from her head, and when Mo, X, and I went to Siena, we were privileged to see her incorruptible head! For reasons only known to God, there are instances where a saint’s body or part of it, decomposes at a slower rate than usual. Although this is a miracle, it is still a little strange. Nonetheless, we were blessed with the opportunity to pray in front of the head of this amazing and radical saint. We knelt at the spot where Jesus appeared to her and proposed with a wedding ring that was only seen by her.

Picture of the poster of the Miracle

Siena held another surprise in store for us: a Eucharistic Miracle! In the mid-1700s, a thief had stolen a tabernacle from the local church. The people of Siena came together and prayed for the preservation of the consecrated Hosts. Their prayers were stronger than they knew because these Hosts have been preserved for over 300 years! They have had several scientific tests performed – they placed unconsecrated bread next to these Hosts and the bread dissolved after 10 years. But not the Hosts! And we got to kneel three feet away from this miracle! I got to see it with my very own eyes!! It made me kneel in awe and wonder how one could lack faith in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist.

Holy God, we praise Thy name; Lord of all, we bow before Thee! Give us faith to trust in You.

A Weekend in Assisi

*Disclaimer: I tried to keep this short and sweet, but I just have to share our abundant graces, and although they are sweet, it's definitely not short!

"If I were to meet a priest and an angel, I should salute the priest before I saluted the angel. The latter is the friend of God; but the priest holds His place. St. Teresa kissed the ground where a priest had passed. When you see a priest, you should say, 'There is he who made me a child of God, and opened Heaven to me by holy Baptism; he who purified me after I had sinned; who gives nourishment to my soul.' At the sight of a church tower, you may say, 'What is there in that place?' 'The Body of Our Lord.' 'Why is He there?' 'Because a priest has been there, and has said holy Mass."

-St. John Vianney, patron saint of priests

These men that God calls for His Church really are a gift. A priest is a man who has made the decision to live the life of Christ in its fullest sense. You see, after high school I had chosen to live a life devoted to Christ, as His bride. This was and is very beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but the priest is called to live a life for God’s children – and through Ordination, their soul has been changed so that they receive the graces to do this! I could go on and on about the greatness of the priesthood, but this is really just supposed to be a segway into the wonderful weekend I had in Assisi…

We visited Assisi at the beginning of February: Week 5.

As per usual, I traveled in a pack of three. Originally, it would have been just my friend & travel buddy Mo and I. We begged others to come with us, and Lo gave in – and we’re glad she did! Mo’s priest-cousin (Fr. C) is a very dear friend of my family and he had been planning to come to Rome; he was able to plan his trip during our stay abroad, so it worked perfectly that we would all spend a weekend in Assisi.

The beauty of our trip was the fact that Fr. C and his friend Fr. J let us crash their party, which in reality was their retreat weekend. Us ladies arrived in Assisi on Thursday night iand Fr. C was waiting at the train station so that he could show us the way to the Bridgettine convent we were staying at. From the very beginning, we were treated with such dignity, it filled us with so much joy we didn’t know how to respond other than by soaking it in!

St. Clare of Assisi & St. Rita of Cascia

On Friday morning, all five of us walked down to the Basilica where St. Francis’ tomb is and celebrated Mass together. This was very meaningful for me as St. Francis is the founder of one of the most popular Religious Orders, the Franciscans. I begged him for his intercession, asking him to pray for me as I continue to discover what the Lord is calling me to do with my life.

Fr. J was the primary celebrant for that Mass, and he has definitely made his way onto the list of priests I pray for. He’s a great man – at first he may seem stoic and intimidating with his height looming over you, but once you get to know him he is a teddy bear! I’m sure he would laugh at me calling him this, but it’s true and we love him for it. Fr. C is one of the most funniest and enjoyable of priests I know. His laugh is contagious and whenever you’re with him, it feels like you’re the most important thing in the world at that moment.

Father teaching us about the castles
& royalty of Assisi on the way to the
Hermitage

These were the priests that the Lord gave to us that weekend. They took care of us physically, mentally, and spiritually. After Mass at the tomb, we ladies separated from the priests so that they could retreat until the afternoon, and we wandered around the Basilica and took in the beauty of Assisi. After lunch with Fr. C, he took us on a hike to the hermitage where St. Francis led his brothers on 40-day-long yearly retreats. This hike to the hermitage was the most intense and challenging hike I have been on in my life. It was literally uphill the whole way – on steep, rocky ground! But through our deep inhales, we managed to hold a great conversation with Father and I was able to ask him the burning theological questions that had been on my mind for weeks. We had a great conversation about the dignity of the human person, the importance of protection against the Devil, and how to survive our semester studying abroad. Once we got to the hermitage, we prayerfully made our way through the grounds made holy by the steps and prayers of Holy Father Francis.

The next day found us at the town right below Assisi, where there lies a huge church that holds the original church that Francis built. We had Mass in one of the side chapels and then we broke off again from the priests to make our way to the church where St. Clare’s tomb is. St. Clare was the first female follower of St. Francis and she also lived a radical life for Christ. That night, Fr. J heard our Confessions and then it was his turn to take us out for dinner. Here was yet another chance to talk about the “real talk” (as we like to call it) that we rarely have time to engage in with priests. To talk more about the dignity we have as daughters of God was really refreshing for our souls. Every night in Assisi, Mo, Lo and I sat on our beds and expressed the overflowing joy we experienced from spending time with these great priests!

Mo kept reminding us that Fr. C once said something like, “When the Lord is pursuing you, you experience joy abundantly.” How true this is!

Overall, the weekend was full of prayer, laughter, nature, beauty, love, joy, and friendship. I couldn't have asked for anything more!

“O Jesus, I pray Thee for Thy faithful and fervent priests…Thy priests who gave me Thy Body and Blood in Holy Communion; the priests who taught and instructed me, or helped and encouraged me; all the priests to whom I am indebted in any other way…O Jesus, keep them all close to Thy Heart, and bless them abundantly in time and in eternity. Amen.”

The Plan

There's this thing called "reflection frostbite" - it's when your life is packed with amazing events and you feel overwhelmed about all of the ways you want to reflect (such as writing in a journal, updating a blog post, messaging/emailing friends and family)...so overwhelmed that you end up doing nothing at all. So you're in this frozen state, wondering what to do with your life, all the while thoroughly enjoying every minute of it.

This is my dilemma. And I don't think that "reflection frostbite" is really a word, because I made it up. But I think it should be a term in our regular vocabulary because it's definitely a reality! I haven't caught up my personal journal for about two weeks now, and my last blog post is leaving the interwebs up in the with loose ends (Week Four Part One, anybody?? There's got to be somebody asking, "What happened to Part Two?!"). So I've made a decision. I'm going to try my best to post when I can, but it won't be the kind of updates that I wish they could have been.

I had this burst of inspiration to write during our stay in the youth hostel in Lisbon, Portugal. We're at the close of our first three days of Spring Break. I'm with two other amazing women, and we just came from Fatima, where the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to three shepherd children in 1917. While my first stay in Assisi made the top of my "favorite places" list, Fatima has definitely been the most meaningful. While we were walking around, I remembered how my Great Grandma Hauser had a strong devotion to Our Lady of Fatima. In that instant, I felt her joy radiating from Heaven. I knew that she was looking down on us and smiling, because I'm sure she would have wanted to be there with me. 

It's the little things that make all the difference.

May Our Lady of Fatima show you the way to true joy!

"My God: I believe, I adore, I hope, and I love You. I beg Your pardon for those who do not believe, do not adore, do not hope, and do not love You."