Yesterday I took Bus #7 to Fiesoli and then climbed the hill to my favorite little convent in all of Italy. I’ve blogged about it before and undoubtedly I’ll blog about it again. In fact, I plan to return there next week before I leave for home.
My favorite is section is the floor housing eight monk’s cells. I spent quite a while there, staring into the little rooms, imagining myself living in one of them. It was a Holy moment. Then, while sitting in the church, it poured rain…and then it stopped. That too was a Holy moment. Finally, peering into the tiny cloisters was also Holy. For certain this visit was the most solitary and silent time I’ve had since arriving here.
My favorite is section is the floor housing eight monk’s cells. I spent quite a while there, staring into the little rooms, imagining myself living in one of them. It was a Holy moment. Then, while sitting in the church, it poured rain…and then it stopped. That too was a Holy moment. Finally, peering into the tiny cloisters was also Holy. For certain this visit was the most solitary and silent time I’ve had since arriving here.
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