St. Thomas Aquinas

It was a joy getting to visit the church and monastery where St. Thomas Aquinas was for so many years in Naples. It's funny to think of him with a Neapolitan accent!

My Little Polyglot

My little polyglot is growing up! 

Little Leigh, fourth child who will always seem young in our family, is actually a towering intellect and exemplar of Christian faith and virtue. 

She is taking pre-calculus. . auf deutsch (in German). . . and her German math teacher had explained a certain (very challenging) mathematical process. Then he tested the class, giving a much harder question on the test than he had explained in class. How did Leigh do? She ditched the entire process that he had taught in class (since she could not see how it extended to this particular problem), and started afresh with her own method. She told me it made perfect sense to her, but she had never really seen anything like it. To my amazement, when she got her test back, the teacher had written, "Genial!" (Awesome!) in the margin. He then explained to the whole class how he would have done it, but that there was also another way. . . and he proceeded to show the class Leigh's way. Wink at Leigh! What a superstar! 

Leigh had a group presentation in German literature. When the other students were using Chat GBT, cutting and pasting onto slides, Leigh was researching, reading, talking with other classmates, writing her own slides. The teacher chose her to give one of the presentations and she nailed it. 

Leigh speaks Italian with her friends like it is her mother tongue; she is about to take the C2 exam in  German even though she only started learning it 3.5 years ago (Is that humanly possible?????) and French. It's her English that falters a little sometimes! Is she on her way to Freiburg? The U.S? She has 1.5 years left with me, and I am making the most of every moment.   

My Cello

 

It is one of those rare, awe-inspiring moments when you realize that your 200-year-old cello, obtained from your dear uncle who had been a professional cellist, was made in Italy just outside of Milan. . . and now is back in Italy just in time for needed repairs. This precious instrument is back in the hands of the Italians who know cellos better than anyone on earth. Who could have imagined that it would wind up in my hands, and that I would take it to Italy--of all places. Rarely does life work out so neatly. What a gentle happenstance for such a remarkable instrument. 

But now I am playing on a loaned cello. . . and who knows for how long. After all, my precious cello is in the hands of Italians.