I Worry

22 03 2008

It’s still raining in Rome.  Black Sky over RomeI was hoping for a sunny day before Easter. I love to go for a sniff and piddle of the colorful potted azaleas that line the Spanish Steps each spring.  But the management refuses to walk too far when the sky is pouring.  Except for Good Friday.  That evening we trek to the Palatine Hill to watch the Pope.

Rome - Palatine Hill

He presides over the nighttime Way of the Cross procession.  I’ve only seen two Popes in my life.  The last time I saw John Paul participate on a Good Friday, he didn’t carry the cross.  The next year, he didn’t come at all.

Last night Benedict didn’t carry the cross either…and I worry.  It’s tradition.  He wore a long white coat, standing sheltered from the cold, persistent rain under a canopy upon the Palatine Hill.  VATICAN-POPE-EASTER-GOOD FRIDAYI wasn’t born a worrier.  It’s something I picked up from my people.  I sometimes tremble under the weight of their gloomy thoughts.  It’s hard not to pick up a bad habit here and there.  And the atmosphere surrounding the whole Easter sceen was grave, indeed.  The  Colosseum stood solemnly in the distance, appearing to melt along it’s illuminated edges in the drizzle. A Cardinal handed the Pope the tall, slender cross and the Pope clutched it like a crutch…and I worry.42-16681784

Chow.

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