This post is linked to RAnn's Sunday Snippets
My 22 year-old youngest son, Christian, Jr., may have a vocation to the priesthood. This Fall he'll spend his senior year of college living in the diocesan discernment house near campus, in its first year of operation. That's him as a 4-year old (I think) in the blogtitle.Tempus Fugit.
Every now & then over the last decade, people have commented on his altar service, observing that he does a good job. Before college, the mother of another server once said of him, "He's very I-don't-know-what...I suppose he has a modesty of motion so you aren't really aware of what a good server he is." Modesty of motion. I like that: being noticed for not being noticeable.
Christian, his two sisters, and My Wife the Travel Agent are on a Catholic tour of Italy right now (Popes, shrines, relics, Eucharistic miracles, etc.). I'll join them in a few days.
My wife has been posting about the trip on Facebook; this bit's interesting:
"We are in Florence now, leaving tomorrow for Padua and Venice, but the past few days have had some truly curious twists and turns, especially for Christian:
Lanciano
First, we were in Lanciano to see the famous 8th century Eucharistic Miracle. We got there on Sunday morning shortly before Mass so the local priest asked that we quickly go in before Mass started. Our group filed single file in front of the altar to climb up behind to view the Eucharistic Miracle which is elevated above the altar. The church was full with the choir trying out some of the hymns before Mass, so we were parading in front of the congregation kind of by default. When Christian rounded the altar after his viewing, an older nun rose out of her pew and approached him, embraced him and gave him a kiss in the cheek. Others in the group asked if he knew her but of course he'd never seen her before in his life. After greeting Christian, she returned to her seat without explanation, and she did not greet anyone else or speak to anyone else in the group.
Crocifisso di San Damiano nella Basilica di Santa Chiara
I'll say. Must've been that modesty of motion. Or something.