Making Your Life a Gift

Mothers have a special chance to make of their lives a gift. In so doing, they become treasures. When a mother makes that rare choice, a conscious decision to live for love and make one’s whole life a gift to others, her life is like a precious jewel box, radiant with beauty. It calls to mind perhaps the most beautiful of all churches of all time, Sainte-Chappelle in Paris.

This chapel was built to house a relic of Christ's crown of thorns. Just like a mother, who houses a treasure, she too, can become a treasure. May all women find their special way of becoming a gift to others and living a life of love.

Red Stilettos

     The women around here really do wear red stiletto heels with tight blue jeans and big hoop earrings, with a cigarette in hand. Red lipstick and long nails, bulky jewelry, big purses strapped over their shoulders. I feel like I am in a Danny DeVito movie that takes place in Queens in the 80's.
     The men, however, are the ones who look even more different. They don't even look like they are from Queens or the Bronx's Little Italy. They look foreign. I know I'm the one who is a foreigner, but still, I cannot help but think, These men are from a totally different gene pool. They are short, almost bald, dark skinned with long, crooked noses. Their eyes are narrow and cheekbones pronounced. Their bodily stature is entirely different from that of American men--broad, hunched shoulders, little bitty waists and legs, feet slightly turned out. Isn't that interesting, that they all have turned out feet, like Mary Poppins? And when they walk, they bounce, like John Travolta. This is in contrast to the American man who is tall and lanky, or the one who is stout and waddles when he walks. Italian men are neither lanky nor do they ever, ever waddle. They may scuffle or shuffle. They may limp if advanced in years. But as it turns out, only Americans waddle. I have relatives back home in the U.S. who are quite fit and healthy, and they still waddle. Not so, Italian men.
     The Italian man is usually wearing tight jeans or else European trousers. He never wears khakis. He wears a shirt with a collar and dons a scarf around his neck. It could be a silk or rayon one tied in the front when he is going to take care of some business. It could be a wool one wrapped around his neck few times, worn over his short-sleeved polo. And he smokes. His eyes and skin show it, his mouth and voice show it. And of course, the lit cigarette in his hand shows it.
     How similar at first glance, compared to the difference between Americans and Saudis or Nigerians. And yet how incredibly different.  

Who Is This Guy?

Fall in Italy

There is a name for these days, so warm, soft, and mild: "Ottobrata Romana," or "Roman Day." Since we have no A/C and were sweltering all summer, and since we are braced for the worst about freezing all winter (there is a heater but the landlord controls it), and since our windows are always open and it is more like camping than living in a house, we are THRILLED about how temperate the climate is these days and weeks. What a lovely season fall is here!

Our Lady of the Sign

   

This is one of my favorite icons. Unlike icons in which Mary is looking down toward Jesus and holding him, such as in Our Lady of Tenderness, in this image, she is looking at the viewer, with her hands raised in prayerful supplication. In her lap is an orb, with Christ inside. Stars are behind him, signaling that he is the King of the universe, and as such, she as his mother is queen.
For many centuries, Mary has been called the Queen of Heaven and Earth by Catholics. The original basis for this title goes back to an ancient Hebrew tradition of Davidic kingship in which the mother of a king is considered a queen. In the Bible, King Solomon’s relationship to his mother accepting her as a powerful advocate is clear:

So, Bathsheba went to King Solomon, to speak to him on behalf of Adonijah. And the king rose to meet her and bowed down to her; then he sat on his throne and had a seat brought for the king’s mother; and she sat on his right. Then she said, ‘I have one small request to make of you; do not refuse me.’ And the king said to her, ‘Make your request, my mother; for I will not refuse you’” (1 Kgs. 2:19–20).

     Bathsheba, the queen mother, has influence with her son as the second most powerful person in the kingdom. She wears a crown and sits on a throne at his right side. The reason that the king’s mother and not wife has the role of queen is that, in such times, a king could have many wives. Solomon had several hundred. But he only had one mother. The mother of the Davidic king held great authority over his decisions. Elsewhere the Scripture makes reference to the queen mother, such as the prophet Jeremiah: “Say to the king and the queen mother: ‘Take a lowly seat, for your beautiful crown has come down from your head. . . Lift up your eyes and see those who come from the north. Where is the flock that was given you, your beautiful flock?’” (Jer. 13:18, 20). The mother of the king is depicted as having a crown. The queen mother is an established part of the Jewish tradition as a powerful advocate.
     As the Jews awaited a messiah, a king who would liberate his people from captivity, Jewish women hoped to be his mother, not only for the good of bringing such a deliverer to the Jewish people, but also for the power it would bestow on her. Hence, the mother of the Messiah, Mary, has been called a queen ever since the earliest times:

From the earliest ages of the Catholic Church a Christian people, whether in time of triumph or more especially in time of crisis, has addressed prayers of petition and hymns of praise and veneration to the Queen of Heaven and never has that hope wavered which they placed in the Mother of the Divine King, Jesus Christ; . . . Mary, the Virgin Mother of God, reigns with a mother's solicitude over the entire world . . . (Pius XII,  Ad Caeli Reginam, section 1)

     This passage also references Mary as crowned in heaven and reigning “with a mother’s solicitude” over the world. Just as Jesus’ kingdom was not of this world, nor was Mary’s. But many faithful have, for millennia, recognized her queenship as real nevertheless and seen her as a powerful advocate with her son.
     This image of Mary reigning over the world, as the mother of the king, is such a strong reminder to me of the importance of every mother's task in society. Mothers have the chance to influence our children well and bring them up in virtue, faith and goodness. They, in turn, will make the world a better place. As Pope Paul VI requested of families: "Build a civilization of love."

Gratitude

• I am grateful for this year with all six children under my roof, all getting along, the four older ones each other's best friends
• I am grateful that Sebastian is school-aged and so delightful (most of the time) 
• I am grateful that we live in a cottage because it feels like we're on vacation every day
• I am grateful that I get to work on my book
• I am grateful that even after a month of school, no one has failed out, melted down, or shown signs that this whole "living in Italy thing" is not going to work out after all
• I am grateful for my mom and my family who supports me so much to be who I am and live the life I am living (Love you, Mom!)
• I am grateful for Italy being so beautiful and the Castelli being so charming
• I am grateful for daily prayer time, the Mass, and the Church which I love so much
• I am grateful for my husband without whom my life would be incomplete and who is one of the most incredible people I've ever met
• I am grateful for my friends, for UD, and for our wonderful community
• I am grateful for my life

Residence

     It took 29 documents, 9 people's cooperation, and 6 hours over the course of 3 days of my being at City Hall, to obtain residency in Frascati. Residency is necessary to have access to everything from doctors to trash collection to. . . you guessed it, soccer teams. Sebastian and Jacob's registration on their respective soccer teams was contingent upon getting this document from the city.
    Each morning for three days, I hauled myself down to the city center clutching a packet of vital documentation including passports and the equivalent of social security numbers and walked into the 150-year-old building that used to be a city library, replete with marble columns. I got snapped at, rebuked, ignored, helped, and even made a friend out of one of the women who works there--the typical gamut of Italian social interaction. One person had warned us: Italians punch you first, and then decide to be nice. That's pretty much right as far as I can tell. I got punched a bit. But after a month of preparations and then three days of pushing at the counter and explaining over and over what our situation is, they finally printed the little thing out.
     Tears actually came to my eyes.
     Residents? It had not even occurred to me what that meant. I had been on a mother's mission of love to get that paperwork so my boys could play sports. But it sunk in all in an instant: we are residents in Frascati, Italy, the province of Rome. We are residents of a city that boomed in the 17th century, is endowed with outstanding art and architecture, and is perhaps the finest city in which Romans escape for weekends, holidays and fabulous dinners and sunsets on Friday nights. This is now our town. A town who's soccer teams are feeder teams for AS Roma professional soccer. This really blows "soccer mom" right out of the water!
    Driving home, the grass looked greener, the trees stood taller, the town's central mansion estate loomed more beautifully over the horizon. I let my heart say "Yes, I love it. This is my town for now, and I am going to love this season of my life."