ROSARIES BLESSED BY THE POPE AND OTHER ODDS AND ENDS

Roman Catholic rosary

This morning Grandpère told me that he regretted he had not gone with me to Rome on one of my two visits to the city.  I'd love to have had him along, but he chose not to go.  What can I say?  Regrets, regrets - they will not get you there.

At the time of my second visit to Rome on a study tour, I was already in the Episcopal Church, but, as we were scheduled to attend a general audience with Pope John Paul II, several Roman Catholic friends asked me to have rosaries blessed by the pope.  I agreed, but when the time came for the audience, I realized that none of my friends had given me rosaries, and I would have to provide them.  Hmm...  Did my friends think the pope tossed them out like Mardi Gras beads?

The facade of Santa Brigida on Piazza Farnese.

During the visit, our group, which was engaged in a study of a particular aspect of the history of the Vatican which I've now forgotten, stayed at the Convent of St Bridgit of Sweden on the Piazza Farnese, a lovely place.  The single rooms were sparsely furnished with simple but lovely antique furniture - all that we needed, but no excess.

One of the conditions for staying at the convent was that we had to take breakfast and luncheon meals in the dining room, which was no great sacrifice as the food was very good.  For the evening meal, we were allowed out.  We had a key to the main door of the convent, but the key and the lock were old, and one evening we were quite late and could not get the key to work, so we had to ring the bell.  I'm certain the nun who came to let us in was awakened from her sleep, and we felt like wayward adolescents who'd stayed out past curfew.

None of the sisters spoke English, and only one spoke Italian, so communication was a challenge, but we managed with one of the leaders of the study group, who spoke fluent Italian, doing most of the talking.  I even managed with hand gestures and pointing as the day for the audience with the pope arrived, and I needed rosaries.  The sisters came to the rescue, for they made rosaries and sold them in their tiny shop for a very reasonable price, so I bought the five or six rosaries for my friends there and dutifully remained after the audience to have the rosaries blessed.

St Bridget - Salem church, Södermanland, Sweden

The study tour in Rome was one of high points of all my years of travel, obviously not so much for what I learned, but for the places we visited, which included an after-hours tour of the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel.  I had visited both places before, but, during the private visit, I saw the gorgeous mosaic tile floor in the chapel for the first time.  In the previous visit, the chapel was crowded with tourists packed in wall-to-wall, and I could see very little of the floor.

Well, as Woody Guthrie said, I roamed, and I rambled, and I followed my footsteps, but not to this land of yours and mine, but rather to Rome.  As you see, I did not  make a long story short.  I could go on, but, I won't.   

Images from Wikipedia here, here, and here.