I write today from the original Capuchin friary in the little town of Camerino. It is like the religious life of the movies. An old stone cloister with a public church attached surrounded gravel roads and gardens. At supper last night all the bearded local friars--and we Frati Americani too--sat around the perimeter of the refectory while the novices came around bringing us wine and fruit, salami and cheese.
I have been very grateful to God on this pilgrimage. Yesterday we had Mass at the crypt of the Basilica of St. Peter in Rome, right in front of the tomb of the apostle. It had been fifteen years since I had been in that spot, and I was just thinking over and over about how much God had done for me during that time--Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, an invitation to a life of prayer--not that I really accepted it!--and a religious vocation through which I have received so much grace and opportunity.
So thanks to the prayers of many things are going well, and you can be assured of mine too.