27 May Get Thee to a Nunnery
“I bet this is the first time any of you have been to a convent,” Dr. O’Connor says. I smile and say, “Nope.” He looks surprised, but my aunt is a nun, so this whole shebang is not wholly unfamiliar to me. This nunnery in Poppi is a bit different though. The sisters are much older, as is the space, feeling far more ancient and quaint. This is a sharp turn of pace from bustling Rome or lively Florence. The people are less likely to know English, but they are a different kind of friendly and take more time with you.
As soon as we arrive, I want to explore this town that I am wholly unfamiliar with, but days without adequate slumber have drained me and I quickly succumb to a nap in the middle of my reading assignment (sorry, Dr. O’Connor). I am awoken from the deepest sleep I have had this whole trip (far more restful than I’ve had in days). Has this quiet little fairy tale town up on the hill all been a dream? The air is cold, and earlier I remember there were big beautiful bells. I hear the sound of children shouting in Italian in the small street below. “Ciao bella!” one little Tuscan princess calls. I climb out of my bed and directly into the window again, resuming the spot I had taken earlier in the day. I will never get used to being stunned by these views of rolling Tuscan hills. I’m in a postcard, a guidebook. It strikes me that this is Sunday. The children must be coming back from church. Has it really been so long that I’ve forgotten about church? It is easy to remember church here, however, in this beautiful place surrounded by God’s creation. Don’t look now, but I may have just found my religion again in Poppi, in a nunnery of all places, how appropriate.
