World Youth Day Round 5

I'M GOING TO WYD PANAMA!

I am a man upon whom fortune truly shines brightly. Like moths to a flame, pilgrimages seem drawn to me...or me to them. As is evident from my previous posts, I have been on a few pilgrimages in my lifetime. It all started in 2008, when I was only 16, and decided to attend World Youth Day in Sydney. It was happening only an hour away from my parish by train, so there was really no excuse not to go. I had an incredible experience that I will never forget, and ever since then I've been hooked by my experience of the universal Church gathering together to celebrate our common faith and love for Christ.

A few years later, in 2010, I managed to get involved in what was called the "WYD Internship Program" run by my own  Broken Bay Diocese. The idea of this program was to recruit young people into active ministry roles within the Church, at a minimum of 10-15 hours per week, with the eventual payoff of an all expenses paid pilgrimage journey to Spain WYD in 2011. This idea was particularly compelling, as I knew I would be freshly turning 18, and I had a growing hunger to see  the world. This program was one of the major reasons I got involved in youth ministry, serving Mass, volunteering at the parish soup kitchen, assisting in the RCIA, running fundraisers for the parish, and so on. I didn't really know it at the time, but that experience truly lit a fire within me, one that has been burning ever since. That fire was the Holy Spirit coming alive in my life, and ultimately became the force that compelled me to join the seminary.

 In Venice before heading to Krakow WYD in 2016

In 2013, I found myself heading to Brazil for another incredible WYD experience, only to follow that up again two years later at WYD in Poland. As I matured in age and my spiritual life, these events became increasingly powerful. They were never for me the source or origin of my Catholic faith, but they always acted as a catalyst for spiritual consolations. I became increasingly aware of the power of the Holy Spirit acting upon the universal Church and was exposed to the physical manifestation of the mystical body of Christ gathered together in worship and celebration.

 At the base of Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janiero in 2013

Then last year, in 2017, I went to Spain for the second time to walk the Camino de Santiago. That was an absolutely life-changing the experience. Something that I find very difficult to put into words. On that journey I  came to understand myself, my brothers, my close friends, and my faith in ways theretofore unknown to me. I truly believe that the Catholic tradition of pilgrimage is a pearl of great price that needs to be regarded more highly and appreciated better by all the faithful. Unfortunately, it was an incredibly exhausting month of walking, and I never had the energy to sit down and blog the experience. The best I can offer you is a link to my YouTube channel, to which I uploaded short videos daily, documenting the scenery and steps along the way.

 On the Camino de Santiago in 2017

I am now finishing my third year in the seminary and preparing to go on a one-month pastoral placement up until Christmas time. However, in January, I have been given the immense privilege of, once again, accompanying by brothers and sisters of Broken Bay Diocese to WYD in Panama. First off we are going to fly to Mexico to the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, after which we will head to Panama for the major event. I am going to refrain from providing too many details now, as I hope they will provide the source material for my future writings on this subject. Until then, I ask for your prayers in this time, both for this pilgrimage and my ongoing journey towards priesthood.

In Christ,
Sam.

Post Pilgrimage Ponderings

So I’m sitting in my seminary room, in my pyjamas, on the first night of the first day of semester two. But you won’t hear anything about this until Friday night* at the earliest because of the first-year internet fast (an exercise in material detachment). The primary thought running through my mind right now is: how on earth did everything happen so fast? One minute I’m blogging away in Italy, next minute I’ve pilgrimaged through Poland, experienced World Youth Day, and am now back in my rightful place at the Seminary of the Good Shepherd.

There actually is a very reasonable (but perhaps not satisfying) explanation for my absence. The moment our plane touched down in Warsaw the day after my last post, our pilgrimage schedule went wild. I was very tempted to force myself to continue with the blog updates, but I knew it would not be a wise choice. First of all, Fr. B made me promise to get proper rest, which would be patently impossible if I had to toil away online each night. Second, Fr. B’s famous words “adapt and prosper at all times” were constantly echoing through my mind. To “adapt and prosper” means to recognise what can be achieved and what can not, with proper reference to God’s will in our lives. I knew that WYD was first and foremost an encounter with Jesus, the blogging was a secondary luxury. If I forced myself to continue pushing out updates, it would mean less sleep, which could potentially lead to missing encounters with our Lord in the people and places of Poland. Fortunately, I slept well enough to keep my eyes wide open, and as a result I felt His presence every step of the way. The words I’m about to say next are a kind of summary of my interior experience of WYD in Poland.

As everyone who has read my previous posts would know, when I left for WYD, I had no idea what to expect. My primary aim was to keep and open heart and be receptive to what God might be trying to tell me amidst the chaos. My guess was that travelling through Italy and Poland would be a prayerful experience that led me into a deeper spiritual relationship with Jesus (and that it was! To a certain degree). But nothing could have prepared me for the real purpose God had in mind…

It was during WYD in Krakow, in 2016, that I fell in love. I fell in love with my Diocese of Broken Bay. And when I say Broken Bay, I don’t mean the physical landmass that constitutes our ecclesial district, I mean the body of Christ, the actual people who are the soul of our local Church. I simply could not have expected to meet such an amazing group of people, and bond with them on the level I did (I refer now to the group affectionately nicknamed “the magic bus”). It was through my encounter with their genuine faith, love and friendship, that I met Christ. Almost everyday of the pilgrimage, I felt as though I was growing in love for God out of a sheer sense of thankfulness for these people in my life.

As I mentioned in a brief sharing I gave at our post-pilgrimage retreat in Warsaw, my experience of Broken Bay has sometimes been a lonely one. The five or so years I spent as youth minister in Woy Woy parish, while extremely rewarding, was often difficult due to lack of support. I think any form of ministry can feel like a slog when one person’s enthusiasm remains in isolation. More recently there’s the fact that up until this month I’ve been the sole seminarian for Broken Bay. Sometimes I could not help but feel like I was: “doing it alone.” But this WYD has cut straight through this manifest untruth. Broken Bay is alive, and it has a vibrant core of young people at its heart. We are certainly not alone, we are just spread out, and it took a unifying event like WYD to bring us together.

The youth of our diocese have so much to offer. The friends I made a WYD bear with them a spirit of joy, an attitude of hope, a strong sense of the faith and a myriad of talents too numerous to count. When my particular pilgrimage group came together, it only took a few days to realise we had something really special. It was no wonder then that it was unanimously chosen that we be called the “magic bus.”

No words can adequately describe the feelings that have been left in my heart after this incredible pilgrimage. I’m at once feeling the sense of heightened elation one gets after making a new friend (multiplied by the thirty-five persons in my bus group), and also saddened that the whole experience is over. The rational part of me recognises that where I am now is my “real-life,” and WYD was just a God-given gift to help me along the way. But that doesn’t stop me from secretly wishing it wasn’t so.

One thing is for certain, it’s only been a few days and I’m already missing my new friends like crazy. But this morning, as if like a voice from the heavens, one of my senior seminary brothers delivered a preaching which related to WYD. He said something like:

“Over the break we’ve developed many new relationships. And as seminarians, just by being ourselves, we have the ability to bear witness to the presence of Christ in our lives in a special way. So, let us not let those relationships fade away. Let us nurture them so as to as to keep the light of Christ burning bright in all our lives.”

I agree completely. However, from my own perspective, it seems as if it was my new WYD friends witnessing Christ to me, not the other way around. But the message remains the same: it is of paramount importance that we maintain these special relationships forged on pilgrimage. These friendships don’t feel to me like fleeting joys, rather they feel like pillars of encouragement and support planted by God in my life. Already I’ve felt a change in myself. It’s like my heart has been expanded with joy and excitement. No longer do I feel isolated, instead I feel a surge of energy and vigour. I have a new and very personal resolve to dedicate myself to this formation process, so that one day (God willing) I might be a priest worthy of serving these amazing people.

I think I’ve made it reasonably clear now how God has been at work in this whole experience. He gave me the opportunity to see some wonders of the world, but more than that, he gave me new friendships that I hope will become as enduring as they are fruitful. It is through this incredible encounter with my diocesan brothers and sisters that God has enlivened the Spirit within me, and given me the strength and resolve to move forward on my journey of priestly discernment.

Peace and blessings,

Sam.

*or Thursday morning, if I happen to exploit the brief window of wifi that opens before class at uni.

Superstition, the Sacred and a String Quartet

I think yesterday was the most unique day of the pilgrimage so far. Up until this point our journey has included some incredible historical wonders, magnificent architecture, and rich culture. But nothing we had witnessed to date could be compared to the sights and sounds of the floating city. I refer, of course, to Venice.

The moment we stepped off our water taxi on to the island of San Marco, we knew we were in for something different. I was immediately struck by the vibrant colours, not only of the buildings, but of the people, the dresses, the masks and the stalls. Another thing I noticed quite quickly was the hike in prices. San Marco, being and island, has to have everything shipped to it by boat, and carried around on carts by hand because their are no vehicles allowed. It makes sense then, that some services tax might apply.

 

First step off the boat.

I was amazed when I heard that Venice was not a natural island, but held up completely by wooden stakes that had been hammered into the mud 100's of years ago. It makes sense that as time goes on, many of the buildings in Venice have begun to develop a bit of a lean. Here is a picture of a bell tower that I saw in the first few minutes of stepping onto "solid" ground.

 

First thing on the agenda was a visit to St. Mark's Square. It was pretty obvious that this city was obsessed with their patron evangelist. Statues and pictures of the symbolic lion adorned everything from the top of giant columns, to mosaics on buildings to small plaques in gelato shops.

 

Note the lion atop the pillar and try to ignore Ezra's shameless photobomb.

"Immediately" we continued on to the Basilica of St. Mark (biblical scholars will understand). It was illegal to take pictures inside so I can't show you the amazing mosaics that flooded every surface with a burst of golden light and colour.  Quite incredibly, the marble floor felt like we were walking on a wavy surface. Over the course of centuries some of the aforementioned pillars had began to give way, leading to a very bumpy walk through the nave. Praying at the tomb of one of the four evangelists blew my mind. Sadly, I quite literally did not have time to comprehend the reality of what was taking place. I hope that retroactive graces might be applied as I contemplate the experience over the following days.

The city of Venice itself is amazing. It's known for its atmosphere of luxury and romance. Skipping the latter, I and a few of my new friends decided to taste some Venetian delights. We settled on cafe Florian, which supposedly was the spot where the likes of Napoleon and Michelangelo may have eaten (huge question mark on that one). Nevertheless, the experience was appreciated by all, and despite the price tag, no one walked away with regret. Here are some snaps of the experience... 

 

 

To give you an idea, it cost €6 pp just to sit down and hear the orchestra play. (Mind you they sounded incredible)

Straight after lunch we met a new tour guide who took us through the Doge's Palace (The doge was the leader). Although filled with the work of much artistic beauty there were two main highlights for me. The Dropbox (pictures below) where political accusations were posted. Each accusation placed in the carved letterbox was investigated, and if it was found to be serious and true, the accused was beheaded. If not, the accuser copped the punishment they wished upon the other. Along with this ran the superstition that liars would be bitten by the Dropbox if they intentionally submitted a lie. 

 

Me submitting a clearly false accusation.

The second thing that caught my attention was the largest oil painting in the world. 10 points to the person who spots Mark the Evangelist.

 

And before you ask. Of course we eventually went on the Gondolas!!

 

 

 

 

While I tried my best to strike a majestic pose. Our gondolier was much more interested checking his Facebook.

Another incredible day.

Sam

St. Anthony and the Missing Sock

(Tuesday and Wednesday)

By comparison, yesterday must have been one of our most relaxing days on this pilgrimage so far. After a beautiful night sleep in the B&B Hotel Firenze Novoli, we broke our fast and began our stroll into the timeless city of Florence. Once we arrived in the main piazza, underneath the giant statue of angry Dante Alighieri, we were set free for two hours and given leave to do whatever we want (within the bounds of reasonable moral judgement).

Being in Florence, a city famous for its leather works, a good number of us b-lined straight for Peruzzi, famous for its leather craftsmanship. We watched a demonstration about how to spot genuine Italian leather, how it should feel and how it should smell. Now with a professional eye, I began to inspect their wares. Not wanting to frivolously waste my euros, I decided upon a wallet that would double as a souvenir and a practical accessory. They even inlaid my initials S.M.F. with white gold for free.

 

Leaving some stragglers behind a small contingent of us went off for a short exploration of the city. Florence is another stunning city, hiding beautiful treasures of art and architecture around every corner.

 

Here are some shots of the city square and streets.

Eventually it was time to leave and we all jumped back on the bus and departed for Padua. As usual we were briefed on the bus and given a few details about the city of Padua and the life of St. Anthony. We also went in for round 2 of question time with the Bishop. This time the questions focused on marriage and sexuality, exploring the topic of nullity and how to enter into a respectful moral dialogue with others.

When we arrived in Padua, the first thing we noticed was the change in architecture. While the architecture in Florence and Sienna was had Western Renaissance style, Padua seemed to be influenced more by the oriental East. Our faithful tour guide Davor also pointed out that the Piazza in Padua was the biggest in all of Europe.

 

Try to ignore the mashed potato heads, it is an unfortunate effect of trying to do a panorama shot on the fly.

After a few minutes of walking through the beautiful square, we arrived at the Basilica of St. Anthony. A picture will describe it much better than my words ever could. 

 

Unfortunately, this was another case where photos were not allowed to be taken on the inside, except for the interior garden which I have captured below.

The interior of the Church held over 60 images and frescoes of Our Lady with the child Jesus. All of which were painted in the style where the eyes follow you around. This led to a peculiar feeling of never being alone in the Church.

The most amazing part of the Basilica was the jawbone, tongue and vocal chords of St. Anthony still amazingly preserved in the golden reliquaries. They say the rest of his remains turned to dust while these things remained incorrupt. This is fitting, given that St. Anthony was widely known for his incredible preaching. Also contained within the reliquaries were bone fragments of Saint John Paul II and Saint Faustina, also fitting, given the current jubilee year of Mercy. I also had the opportunity to pray at the tomb of St. Anthony, and press my rosary beads against his tombstone.

Pretty soon we were on the bus again and flying towards Venice, our destination for dinner and sleep. Our dinner was incredibly not pasta or pizza, but a vegetable soup! This was accepted with glee, and a wonderful change from carbohydrates to vitamins.

Returning to my hotel room I noticed the smell emanating from my luggage bag. It was time to wash my clothes. After roaming the streets looking for a laundromat I finally found a little place on the corner. I chucked in all my clothes and let it go to work. When I came back I found a group of fellow pilgrims down trodden with the news that security had come and said the laundry was closing in 10 minutes. With a minute to go in my wash cycle I hit emergency stop and flung my clothes into the dryer on max heat. A few shrunken clothes was better than no clothes at all. Luckily the security guard was late (thank the Lord for Italian smoko) and my clothes were bone dry. Sorting them out I noticed there was a sock missing. Having Anthony on the brain, I, almost half jokingly, offered up a prayer. Funnily enough I found it almost immediately stuck to the top of the washing machine. I dried it overnight by hanging it on a air-con vent and wear it now as a sign of thanksgiving!

God bless

Sam 

In Florence with Friends

Monday was a day full of grace. I had the incredible privilege of visiting the town of Assisi, where St. Francis, possibly the most influential saint of the Middle Ages, lived, grew and ministered to God's people.

We visited the three major basilicas in the Assisi area, namely, Santa Maria degli Angeli, the Basilica of St. Francis, and the Basilica of St. Clare. I took the opportunity while in the former to visit the tiny Church (Porticulo) enclosed inside, where St. Francis had the vision of Christ on the Cross imploring him to "rebuild my Church." While in prayer, I realised this was the place where St. Francis received his vocation from God, and so it was here that I asked for St. Franics' intercession to help me along my own path.

Santa Maria degli Angeli from the outside (not the actual Basilica of St Francis as accidentally stated  in my previous post). Given Francis' disposition, I saw the need to include some nature in the photo.

The beautiful orange-yellow moss that grows on the trees in Assisi.

In the latter two basilicas dedicated to the great saints Francis and Clare, we visited the the tombs where they have been laid to rest. Again, I used the opportunity to pray for family and loved ones, imploring the powerful intercession of these great saints. 

Given the nature of Francis' charism, these churches were understandably less decadent than those found in Rome. That is not to say, by any means, that they are any less beautiful. There is a beautiful simplicity to their architecture, and it is brought to life by Giottos's frescoes crammed onto every exposed surface. I can confidently say that the basilicas (and town) of Assisi have been the highlight of my pilgrimage thus far. Unfortunately, we were told we couldn't take photos inside. Fortunately, I was told a little to late. ;)

The upper basilica of St. Francis (there is another directly below this one)

A small section of Giotto's brilliance. This famous image you see to the right of the picture is said to be the most accurate depiction of the saint's true visage. The tradition holds that Giotto was pretty anal when it came to getting things right, and so he likely would have spoken to those who had actually met Francis in person. The fresco was painted roughly 60 years after his' death in 1226.

(Tuesday 19th July)

I don't think I can stress enough how busy we have been. These days of pilgrimage are utterly jam packed with tours, travel, Mass and other related activities. Today was no exception. 

After a lovely breakfast in our hotel consisting of pastries, cereal, fruit, yoghurt and coffee we hit the road again. Today's destination was Sienna and Florence (not Padua...yet). On the bus we drove through the hills and townships of Umbria and Tuscany, arguably some of the most beautiful countryside in the world. The light seems to hit it in such a way that it explodes in colour without casting any glare. The Lord only knows how, but the small towns and villages seem to have retained their unique culture for centuries. I couldn't help but think how many saints had traversed through and witnessed this very same countryside? 

The bus ride was a great experience. Bishop Peter took the opportunity to turn the ride into an open forum Q&A. The questions came hard and fast, spanning from queries about his own life and vocation, to the technical distinction between friars and monks, sisters and nuns. He answered every question with confident simplicity, in a way that could be understood by all.

Just before we arrived in Sienna, Bishop Peter gave us an introduction to the life and personality of St. Catherine. She was a strong and faithful woman. Tiny in stature but gargantuan in spirit. It was she, a lay third order Dominican, who went to Avignon in France in 1375, and persuaded the Pope to come back to his rightful see in Rome. She was an incredibly holy woman, who took to herself the path of suffering in order to draw closer to the passion of our Lord. She would often fast for long periods, surving purely on the precious body of our Lord. 

The biographical details of her life came stunningly to life as we entered the Basilica of St. Dominic. Once again, almost every surface was adorned with beautiful frescoes dating back hundreds of years. Unfortunately, this time the no photos rule was quite strictly enforced. But here is a picture from the outside...

 

Inside we had the opportunity to see two major relics of St. Catherine. Her head and her right thumb. Looking at the head of St. Catherine was a strange experience. It was equal parts creepy and awe-inspiring. I was honoured to be able to gaze upon the face of a great Saint, but also slightly disturbed by the fact that I was looking at a dead head. The thumb was much more manageable, it felt like St. Catherine was encouraging me along my journey with a thumbs up.

I found the next part of the journey the most entertaining. In the heart of Sienna is the Piazza del Campo (the main square). Twice a year in the square, the town holds a horse race where all of the 17 neighbouring provinces compete against one another. Approximately one month before the race, each province chooses a horse to compete (no thoroughbreds allowed). The best part about the whole race is that only the horse needs to finish, the jockey need not get to the end. That may sound strange at first, but it makes sense given that the jockeys are allowed to use their whips to flog their opponents.

 

This is the the square where the provinces battle it out on horseback.

Our time in Sienna was lovely, but pretty soon we were back on the bus and flying towards Florencia. We were given ample time to roam the streets and do some leather shopping. Our guided tour only took us to one place, and that was Santa Croche Basilica. 

 

This is a picture of Santa Croche featuring a monument to Florence's own Dante Alighieri. 

Inside the Basilica are the tombs of some of histories greatest personages. Among them are Galileo Galilee (spelling?), Michelangelo and Machiavelli. I thought it might be disrespectful to photograph their tombs, but in the case of Machiavelli, I guess the ends justifed the means.

 

Tombs of the greats.

 

This monolithic structure is called Duomo of Santa Maria Del Fiore. I had to use the panorama function on my phone to fit it into one shot.

That concludes today's update. Currently I'm on the bus, once again driving through the rolling hills of Italy. We are on our way to Padua for our tour of St.Anthony's Basilica, and then hurrying off to Venice to sleep. I promise to get a gondola shot!

 

Here's a shot of Grace and I taken immediately before upload. 

P.S. You're up to date!

God bless

Sam

Disaster and Detachment!

Tragedy has struck, and she has struck with relentless force. These last few days I've been painstakingly recording each detail of my pilgrimage into blog posts, which I was patiently awaiting the arrival of wifi to post. I eventually ran out of patience and decided to upload via mobile data...big mistake. I fell asleep last night during the upload, and awoke to find over 2000 words of blog post completely gone. They had simply ceased to exist. 

This cut me deep, and I spent the first hours of this morning in a state of lament. But when I arrived in Assisi, the home of St. Francis, my joy quickly surpassed my sorrow, and I decided upon a solution. Rather than spend several hours trying to recap what I lost, I've decided to simply post pictures of the pilgrimage highlights so far, with small commentaries next to each. That way I can catch you up to where I'm at, while not eating into the time which could be spent entering more deeply into the spirit of pilgrimage.

Let's begin with my arrival in Rome!

(Saturday 16th July)

Our first moments in Rome. Fr Stephen and I took this photo in the airport while we waited for missing bags to appear on the carousel. Most of our group's bags went mysteriously missing for about 25 minutes, the current theory is that the Italian baggage handlers were having a quick smoko. 

 

Fr Philip, Stephen, Ansalom and myself as we enter St. Peter's square for the first time. It was so early in the morning that we were basically the only pilgrimage group, apart from a few stray nuns.

 

This is a panorama I took of the square. You can see the colonnades designed by Bernini, which are meant to portray the arms of Mother Church stretching out to embrace the human race. The obelisk in the centre was moved there in the first century by the Emperor. Originally it was 100 metres to the right, in Nero's circus, and is said to have stood witness to the heroic martyrdom of thousands of Christians.

 

This is the man himself, St. Peter! He may be the prince of the apostles (as the inscription says), but that won't stop seagulls from pooing on his head.

 

While in St. Peter's Basilica, our own Bishop Peter was able to arrange for his eminence Cardinal George Pell to celebrate Mass for us. He gave a beautiful homily about opening our hearts to the will of Christ in our lives. This really struck a chord with regards to my own spiritual discernment. I was also greatly moved when I prayed before the tomb of St. Peter; the man who loved Jesus so intimately and personally, but like us, fell many times along the way.

 

My first real glimpse of the Colosseum. What this picture doesn't capture is the man dressed as Roman soldier trying to pull tips while swinging a foam sword in one hand, and holding a cigarette in the other. Still, an amazing sight to behold.

 

This is me, being super sneaky, and taking a photo where I probably shouldn't. If you look close enough, I won't have to tell you where it was snapped. By far the greatest collection of human genius I have ever witnessed.

 

The Official Vatican Diocesan Cathedral, St. John Lateran. For the sake of scale, each of those statues are roughly 17 feet tall. The Romans are said to brag by saying, "we even have the saints living in our skies."

(Sunday 17th July)

 

Another sneaky pocket photo taken on the fly. This is a corridor in what are known as the San Domitilla Catacombs. They are said to be one of the largest network of Catacombs in Rome, having over 17kms of tunnels under the city, and once the home of over 150,000 Christian tombs. We had the privilege of celebrating Mass down there, and praying for the souls of the dead.

 

Here's a close up shot of my good mate Paul outside the walls. A truly magnificent Church dedicated to a man of endless zeal, a true inspiration to all of us wishing to turn from our old way of life and follow Jesus' will until the end.

 

This is me adopting the pagan practice of making a wish at the Trevi Fountain. If you look close enough you can see the coin sailing through the air towards the water. Ironically enough, my wish was for the conversion of souls.

Sitting by a fountain outside the Basilica of Our Lady in Trastevere with the two men who served as my spiritual directors (Fr. Philip and Fr. Stephen), and were instrumental and encouraging me along the path to priesthood.

(Monday18th July)

 

Outside the Basilica of St. Francis. This was the Church erected just outside the main city of Assisi. It is constructed upon, and encloses a tiny Church inside built by St. Francis himself.

 

A beautiful statue of St. Francis and a dove outside the Basilica of St. Claire. We even had opportunity to visit the shrine containing his resting place, where I had the opportunity to ask for his intercession for my family, parish, and friends.

 

A quick snap while roaming the incredible streets of Assisi. I would have to say Assisi is my favourite city so far. While Rome has history and magnitude, the simple beauty and spiritual atmosphere of Assisi takes the cake.

 

The room in which I sit now, struggling to get my internet to work just long enough to upload this post.

I hope these few pictures (chosen from hundreds) have given you some sense of the packed days I've been having, and the wonders I've experienced while on pilgrimage. I would be happy to respond to any questions and fill in any details on request. But this little update is the best I can do given the difficult circumstances. I look forward to sharing with you in more depth the events of the following days.

Tomorrow's agenda: Sienna and Padua. Bring it on St. Catherine and Anthony!

Peace and blessings.

Sam.