Every year about this time I find my thoughts drifting back to Easter 1971. I was a senior in high school and was studying my fourth and final year of Latin. When the Latin class was invited to go on a trip to Italy that April, I longed to go but was fairly certain I'd never be allowed to do so. My father was very strict and we were in no position financially to send me on such an extravagant trip. Combine those two road blocks and a trip overseas was definitely out of the question!
But, with creative financing by Gramm and Popo (my maternal grandparents) I was able to go to Italy afterall. They gifted me the necessary funds and called it a combination Christmas, Birthday and Graduation gift. Worked for me!
As a group we visited many of the popular ruins and tourist sites: Trevi Fountain, Vatican City, St. Peter's Basilica, Colosseum, the list goes on and on. Our trip was timed so that we could spend Holy Week in Rome. The Easter Sunday Mass celebrated by Pope Paul VI for the thousands of people who gathered in St. Peter's Square was an experience like none I've ever had - before or since then.
At first, I was appalled with the circus-like atmosphere that began to percolate on Saturday morning. Balloons, souveniers, programs for sale... Unimaginable to say the least. But, when Pope Paul VI stepped out on the balcony and began to deliver his Easter message, all of that was forgotten. I stood there in a sea of humanity and yet I felt as though he was speaking to me and no one else.
Sometimes in the years since, I've watched the Easter services from Rome on television. Although they are awe inspiring, they in no way convey what it is like to stand there in the midst of all of that history, all of those people, and all of that religious tradition.
Easter 1971 was an Easter I'll never forget... The beautiful memories are forever stored in that very special place in my soul - the place where memories go to live for eternity.
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