Buona Pasqua

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I spent my favorite Easter in this piazza- Piazza Liberta, in Macerata, Italy.  I was studying abroad and my roommate and I woke up early to attend mass.  After a beautiful service, all in Italian, we headed to a bakery in the middle of these massive stairs that connected the two major piazzas in town.  Luigi and Maria were the owners of the bakery and had become our friends.  Their bakery was not just the home of unreal bread, pastries and candies but also a home– it was where everyone gathered, at the beginning of the day, middle of the day, end of the day, holidays…you get my point.  I’ll never forget my plate of nutella-filled cornetto, biscotti, fruit, little cakes, served with a glass of wine (it was a holiday after all!).  We crammed in that tiny bakery with what seemed like half of the town, laughing, talking, cheek kissing.

Post brunch, we headed for Piazza Liberta.  Surrounded by medieval walls, pigeons and a duomo that had seen centuries of lives pass it by, I remember thinking “This is Easter.  This is rebirth and humility and faith.”  A fog had settled over the city but I was so clear.  And grateful.  For that city, for that moment, for that holiday that has given me spiritual life.

There have been 6 Cadbury egg-filled Easters since that day I spent in Macerata, all wonderful in their own right.  But every time I settle into a pew to listen to Easter mass, I can’t help but be brought right back to my Macerata mass.  Sometimes, it may take a language you don’t know to understand every word.

Buona Pasqua, my friends!