"A Holy Door is a symbol of oneness with the Universal Church. It is also a symbol of convocation, an invitation to persons of good will to enter, whatever their religious denominations."I am finally able to write about it after a particularly harrowing week, where I've been dealing with a horrid issue for my poor sister Paula. My other sister Barb and I have been helping Paula, and finally, one small piece of the problem was finally resolved moments ago.
The thought occurs to me that perhaps Satan has been alive and well this week because he wasn't too pleased with the fact that Maureen and I not only visited the Holy Door, but also, we were able to go to confession and to Mass, and receive Holy Communion as well, AND perhaps more importantly, we were able to pray for so many intentions that we carried in our hearts as we went through the Holy Door. I think we covered all of them, multiple times.
Our confessions almost didn't happen, because the dear sweet priest who heard them, hardly spoke a word of English, and spent so much time with each person ahead of us, we feared his allotted time would be up before we could go. But not to worry, the Holy Spirit was with us and all worked out.
And not only all that. We took lots of pictures, we had an excellent Italian dinner, and generally acted like fools, as we are sometimes known to do.
Maureen put together this beautiful video with some of my pictures.
Our hotel was a bit sketch, but the room itself was fine, and large. I did trip over the bathroom threshold once. Good thing I have extra padding in the right places. The WIFI never worked as promised, but our proprietor was so adorable, it was impossible to get mad at him. He kept saying that it should work, but no it never did.
Then I discovered that the remainder of my Encyclical by Pope Francis (I had printed it out in two parts) was left on the train on the way there so I couldn't finish reading it.
On our first foray out into old Quebec, I noticed that Maureen was carrying our bag of apples instead of her umbrella. Say what? I asked her what she had in her bag and when she looked back at me all I could do was point to her apples I was laughing so hard. Then at one point the wind caught her hat and off it sailed with me in hot pursuit. I was able to retrieve it.
There were a few other minor crimes and misdemeanors, but no matter.
On our return trip, after we settled into our first class seats on the train all comfy like (no we didn't travel first class, it was just a fluke of some kind) panic overtook me. I couldn't find my purse. Up I got, ran back out into the station, retraced all my steps, couldn't find my purse, only to return to the train and discover it had fallen under my seat.
God is good.
You know. I actually think it might have been a good idea that I forgot the Encyclical on the train. Maybe someone got to read it, that otherwise wouldn't have. I know I enjoyed the first half of it, that I had already read.
Maybe God wanted someone else to read it. You never know.
Two more videos of our trip: