What a wonderful world.

I wanted to share this picture with you, it's probably the most beautiful picture I have taken. And I wanted to share it with you, along with a story.

About a month ago, I was at a social dinner for the American Catholic group here in Florence at the Cathedral, and I was talking to two students from Kentucky. They were telling me that they live near the Cathedral, and walk by it every day on the way to school. Then one girl mentioned that she's getting so used to seeing the church that she barely even glances at it anymore.

I remember thinking immediately how not only did I not understand that she could not recognize it's beauty even now, but also how sorry I felt for her that she could not.

I hope I never, ever become so accustomed to something that I no longer recognize its beauty. I hope I never walk by anything and not use the eyes that God gave me to take in its splendor before I continue on. I hope I always catch my breath when I see something extraordinary, even if I've seen it a million times before.

Because I am so thankful to be alive, I am so thankful to have eyes, and what better way to thank and praise God for that, then to admire his creations within the world around us?

I could not understand this girl's statement, because even now, after walking past that enormous, beautiful, breathtaking, splendid work of art, my heart skips a beat and I praise God that I get to see it.

But it's also made me realize how much I skipped over before I came here. How many times I didn't notice the beauty around me because I had grown up in it, and how wrong of me that was.

Cherish what you have, because there are a thousand people who don't have it. Love what you can see, because there are a thousand people who can't see it. And thank God for all of this, because there are a thousand people who never will.

Time never really flies.

Although I already knew this, I'm starting to realize that this is not a vacation. This is life, this is real, and this is a heck of a lot longer then I could ever have understood.

You can look at a period of time and say, that compared to the rest of your life it's barely any time at all, but then when you look back at only a fraction of that time spent, you realize just how much you have done, learned, seen, and grown, and it seems like an eternity.

I've learned about my faith, about myself, about other people, and about the world, and as I sit there and make plans for what's to come I realize that I haven't even begun to scratch the surface. I feel like I'm sitting still in a place that although I am a resident of, still doesn't feel like home. I feel as though time is stretching out in front of me, and I can see everything that I'm going to do, and everything that I'm going to learn, but I'm not sure how I'm going to get there. I can see the person that I'm going to become by the time this year ends, but she's just out of reach, locked somewhere away and waiting until the right moment to emerge.

And I also see everything that I was. To think about the girl that was only two months ago, getting on a plane with tears in her eyes and absolutely no idea what she was doing, And I wonder how I could have ever been that girl. She's completely different from me.

God put me here. Why I don't know yet, and what I am supposed to be doing I'm still not sure... But I know that I'm here for a reason. And he is slowly telling me, that I need to be prepared to spend a year almost completely alone. Of course only in the personal sense. No one here knows me, and I'm beginning to doubt that they ever will, how can you explain 20 years of a life, especially a life, mind, and personality as complex as mine?

And of course, as with everything in life, I've realized there are things I have to give up. People are moving on with their lives, lives I am no longer a part of, and as much as I may want to hold on, I have to let go. If there's one thing I have learned and learned well, it's that trust in the Lord is the only absolute and sure thing that we have in this world.

I don't know where I am at this point... And I'm still not sure where I'm going. All I know, is that it will be a long time getting there, and I will most likely be the only one travelling. Of course the first step is realizing that if that's ok with God, then it has to be ok with me.

We are never alone.

What can I even say.... I have so much on my mind, and it spins around and around until I've forgotten what goes where, and what's more important.

Paris was incredible, an unforgettable experience. So many people focus on the glamorous fashion and shopping, and the sparkling Eiffel Tower, but being able to see the history, especially the Catholic history, was an experience of a lifetime.

I was able to see Notre Dame, Sainte -Chappelle and its gorgeous stained glass windows, the graves of the royals in St. Denis, and The chapel of the Miraculous Medal, where Mary appeared to St. Catherine.

Paris was gorgeous, as was Turin this past weekend. Turin was Italy's first capital until it was changed to Rome, and the city is rich in Italian culture, with its delicious one of a kind chocolate, wine, and people.

Travelling this much and to all these different and diverse places gives you a whole new perspective on the world, and things that you never thought about before. How could I not be aware of how diverse and rich and absolutely beautiful this world is? It's breathtaking and I never thought that I would be able to experience it.

Just a taste of this world is all I have had. Just a small bite, and all I want is more. I have a deep desire to see absolutely everything, from New York all the way to Australia and back again, because there's no way you can see everything in one lifetime. And one day in each place is just not enough. I've spent almost two months here and Florence, and all I do every day is discover new and amazing things about this beautiful city.

It's left me wondering, why did I never want to do this before? And why was I so quick to disregard everyone else in the world to focus on only myself?

I don't know how God does it. Well, I guess that's why he's God. Who else could create such an incredible world?

Seeing everything and experiencing everything has put so much of my life into a different light. I see things, I see myself differently now. There are so many things that I thought I was, I thought I had myself figured out, but I was wrong. There were so many bad qualities, qualities that I had figured in my life I would have to work on, that maybe just maybe, aren't there anymore.

For my entire life I have believed that my anger problems and issues were holding me back, that they were a dark part of me and of my past that I just couldn't change. In my head I described myself as mean, impatient, tough, angered easily, and selfish.

But now, here, away from everything that's familiar and everyone that I know, I have begun to see things in myself that I never thought were there, things that I now can look back and say that they have been there all along, I am just too harsh on myself to want to believe it.

I'm actually a nice person, and when faced with challenges of controlling my anger or letting it get to me, every time I have been the rational and calm person in the situation. I have kept my head. I'm too giving, everything that I brought with me here I have shared without hesitation, even with a limited supply.

I would like to say that all of that has been me, and as much as my new found optimism and sense of self worth is pushing me to say that, I know it would be a lie. Because it's not me, it never has been me. It's all God. I have known he has been here with me from the very beginning, and he has never let me fall down. There have been so many things that have worked out perfectly even if they were expected to go wrong. Everything that has happened has ended up with a happy ending, and every tear has become a smile.

I could tell you everything, but it would be the longest post of my life, and I have a test to get to in a couple of hours. But there is something about trust, something beautiful and holy about the idea of putting absolutely everything you have into the hands of God. There's something scary and wonderful about buying a plane ticket when you know you'll be travelling alone in a foreign country, and absolutely trusting 100% that everything is going to be okay, because it always always is.

I could cry tears of Joy for the wonderful blessings that I have been given here, and the way that God has shown me that he will never never abandon his children. Even when it seems as though he's not around, he's waiting just around the corner, to hand you something beautiful.

I have never trusted him more in my entire life than I have been this year, and it's making me wonder why I never trusted more before. There's freedom in life when you know you can say, God will take care of it, and not have to worry one bit. Because we are never alone.

Our Struggle

This past weekend I went Munich, Germany for Oktoberfest. Before we went to the festival we took a bike tour around the city. Out of the countless historical places we passed, saw, and learned about, there were two that stuck out in my mind. The two monuments that were dedicated to Nazi resisters, German citizens in World War II who were openly against the largest and most dangerous political party in their country.

The first monument was for seven young student resisters, who attempted to pass out pamphlets in their school in order to alert people to what was really happening during the war. A brother and sister were the first to be caught, and after being starved and tried, they refused to give up the other members of the group, and were sentenced to death by Guillotine. Throughout the rest of the war the other five were eventually caught and killed. It was mean to be a statement to the German people, that resistance would not be tolerated, however it had the complete opposite effect, and people began to fight back.

The second monument, a simple golden line on the cobblestones on the street, was for an even larger group of people. During the war, after Hitler came to power, he put in a Nazi memorial on the street perpendicular to this one, to honor the fallen soldiers that dies years earlier during his first attempt to take over Munich, the reason he was jailed (when he wrote Mein Kampf or My Struggle). The people of Germany were expected to do the Nazi salute whenever they passed the memorial, and if they did not comply they were beaten by German soldiers patrolling the area. So those who refused, began to cut across this street to get to where they were going, avoiding the monument altogether. When the soldiers figured out what was being done, they immediately began to watch for these people, recorded who they were, sought them out, and killed them and their families. This memorial was put there for them, and their bravery.

As I heard these stories, it took all of my energy to hold back tears. How afraid these people must have been, and yet how brave they were. To resist and to face death, an end they must have known was coming, and yet they did not back down. And how cowardly are we, when we lie to avoid a confrontation, or we deny what we believe to avoid conflict? I know I have been that cowardly at points in my life.

Sometimes I wonder, when faced with such a challenge, would most of us back down? or would we fight to the very end, until death? They are martyrs, and they should be commemorated as such, if I was given the opportunity, would I be brave enough to be a martyr?

My first instinct is to say no, I do not have nearly enough faith in myself to be a confident yes. But maybe even if it's a no right now, it's still a no that's on its way to a yes.

How many times have we, when someone asks us why it is we go to church on Sundays, with a sneer and a judgmental brow, have brushed it off as not a big deal? How many times do we, choose instead to do something else other than going to church, or bible study, or confession when we should have been? How many times have we, forgotten who it is that gave us life in the first place, and that it actually doesn't belong to us, but to Him.

I do these things all the time. And when I remember I am so sorry that I ever forgot in the first place. Because I want to be like a martyr, I want to say yes even when everyone else is saying no, and even when with saying yes it might cost me my life. Because I gave my life away the minute I gave it to God, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Hearing those stories made me realize... I want to pray every day for the strength of that Yes. That Yes that echoed in Mary's words at the visitation, the Yes in the blood of Christ as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. The Yes of those German martyrs, whose innocence and bravery will be remembered forever. I want to say my own Yes, and it's a struggle that lasts a lifetime, but if it's not my life to live, then there is nothing else that would give me greater pleasure than the sacrifice of a Yes.

I am.

This past month has been the hardest month I have ever endured, but yet it has been the most amazing. I have been in more places than I ever though I would see, and have experienced more things than I ever thought I would.

It's been difficult however. I have learned so much about myself, about other people, and about where I belong in life. and it always has been and always will be with God in the Catholic church. It's interesting when you realize where you fit, it's like you're a puzzle piece left over and wedged inside the game cupboard. But when someone finds you and puts you back in your place on the puzzle, you feel snug and comfortable, and you can't even remember how it was that you strayed away.

These past few weeks I have spent complaining and being upset about my situation, my social situation that is. After all the problems and the wondering where I went wrong, and what in the world I could do to fix it, I finally realized that it wasn't so bad after all. Yeah i don't have someone to rely on, someone who will always be there, but maybe I was looking in the wrong place, maybe that person isn't actually a person at all, but someone who is always watching over me from above, and who has given me everything in this world, everything that I could ever ask for and more.

I told my parents today that I was doing better. Nothing had really changed, except for me that is. The first thing my dad said was that there was nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong with being alone, without a group or someone to rely on. That maybe this time was for me. My mom said she was glad because she was worried about me, but my dad said he wasn't, he knew I could handle anything, and that whatever happened I would be ok.

I had forgotten the most important thing. I had forgotten that I am Felicity Rose Landa, strong, independent, stubborn, impatient, tough as nails, organized, smart, strong-willed, and in desperate need of anger management.

It's hard for anyone to be alone. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy. At this point, even though my microphone on my computer doesn't work and I can't talk to people at home, one of my best friends and the only person who would really understand what I'm going through isn't around to talk to, and there's no one here who knows me enough to want to listen and to actually care, I'm stuck.

But I'm not just stuck. I'm also Felicity Rose Landa, and if anyone can make the best of a weird situation, and stay strong and independent, it's me.

All in his time

This past week has just been stressful. And believe me, being in a foreign country completely on your own, although an incredible experience, is not easy.

And it definitely has not been easy for me. Through trying to make friends and be social (a feat that everyone who knows me well knows is a hard thing for me to do) to working on learning the language and the culture, missing my family and friends, and just trying to figure out who I am and what I want out of this year, it has brought me down significantly.

All the pictures are beautiful, and all the smiles are there, but the struggle never really goes away. After a week filled with stress and hurt and problems, I finally sat down and asked myself, what is it that I'm doing? What is it that I want, and why can't I seem to get there?

Before I found the answers however, I remembered the private tour I took with a few friends through the Duomo, the Cathedral of St. Mary of the Flower in Florence. A priest gave us a free tour and entrance as members of the American Students Catholic club here.

Father Don Marco told us about the inside of the church. Although it was absolutely gorgeous and intricate from the outside, once inside, the Cathedral is less spectacular. No frescoes on the walls, no elaborate statues lining the inside. Very simple and plain, a huge contrast to its extravagant outside.

he told us that the reason for this was that it was meant to be plain, the architect designed it that way, and for a very specific purpose. The inside of the Cathedral is bare, because the congregation is meant to fill the church, and the faith and love they have for Jesus in their hearts will be the decorations, and they will make the church much more beautiful than any painting or sculpture could.

And then he said it. "Nothing is ever coincidence. Everything means something."

Everything means something. Our lives are constant battles, no matter what your location is, and it all is a part of God's plan, because nothing for us, as his creations, is ever coincidence. I would be rich if I had a euro for every time someone told me to just wait it out, that everything was going to be okay. And I know that they're right. Because God will never leave me, no matter how many times it feels like he isn't there.

Every fall is a learning experience, and it will always lead to something better. I know this is true because I have seen it countless times in my life. I may be struggling, hurting, and confused right now... but soon I will be happy, carefree, and moving on.

It may have a been a bad week, and it may still be really hard, and I may feel really really alone... but at least in the back of my mind I know for sure that all of that is not a coincidence, I just have to trust that whatever comes afterwards is going to be the best part.

It's not a small world after all

This past weekend was the first time we left the city of Florence. It was incredible.

On Friday we visited the city of Siena, where I saw the actual preserved head and finger of Saint Catherine of Siena, an incredible Saint I have admired since childhood. I also got to explore the Duomo of Siena, an incredibly gorgeous cathedral. That night we had a five course meal, the largest and fanciest meal of my life, in Machiavelli's country house just outside of Florence.

On Saturday I found myself heading out at 5:30am to catch a train to Cinque terre, a small strip of five coastal cities West of Firenze. It was the most beautiful and amazing trip of my life. I swam in the Mediterranean Sea, and hiked through the mountains to these gorgeous small coastal cities. The water was crystal blue, no pollution and no trash, and the trails, although rough, were high up in the mountains and gave spectaculars views of the ocean and the cities at a distance.

It was an amazing two days, but the thing that stuck out to me the most, was the journeys there, the places that we passed, the wide stretches of wilderness or of farmland. I watched as we sped by, realizing that I had never really thought about the fact that Firenze is such a small portion of a large country, and that country was just a small portion of a large continent, one that I had never experienced before.

How ignorant are we, that we never look past our own front door? Its an easy and natural instict, the selfishness that comes with that ignorance. This world is so vast, so beautiful, and so unexplored by so many people. We students here in the study abroad programs are so quick to complain that Italy does not have the things that we are so accustomed to having in the States, that we forget to enjoy the change in cultures, and realize that the people of Italy have lived without those things for their entire lives, so maybe they're really not that necessary.

We are so spoiled, and we are selfish, and although that sounds harsh, it's the way things are. Would we think to care about others in the world if we were never reminded? most likely not. I know I wouldn't. I could have cared less about the rest of the world, the majority of which I have never even seen, before I came here.

Even in Firenze, just leaving the city, I realized how small I am, compared to God's masterpiece, the world. I am insignificant to the majority of human beings, and most are insignificant to me, but we are all connected, through our creator. This gives us the ability to hopefully, begin to care.

Do Not Be Afraid, I am With You

The Story of the Keys

The old bridge that crosses the Arno in Florence, or the Ponte Vecchio, is one of the most amazing sights of the city. One of the strangest things you see there, are clumps of locks like the one above, clumped onto railings, or walls.

It’s a tradition, that a couple comes to the Ponte Vecchio, and together locks a lock on the bridge, to symbolize their love.

As my friend told me the story, I looked out onto the water, thinking: I’m in the most beautiful place in the entire world. Look at the sunset, it sets behind the mountains and falls gently on the calm waters of the Arno. The buildings shine or lay in shadow, and either way they are stunning. The air is crisp and fresh, and the streets are paved in cobblestone. There is something always to look at and always somewhere to go.

So what would make it even more perfect, other than someone to share it with? Why can’t I have someone to sweep me off my feet, follow me to Italy, and be with me for the rest of my life?

Because life is not like that. Life is not a romantic comedy where everyone is the star of their own love story. Life is a series of ups and downs, twists and turns, lessons learned or lessons ignored, never ending climaxes, and problems that don’t reach resolutions.

There are so many things that we don’t get to have in this life. But then there’s one that we do, one that trumps all the others… someone who laid down their life for our eternal happiness.

I learned a long time ago, that having a significant other is not the most important thing in the world, even if it may feel like it is when you don’t have one. Or even worse when you know exactly who you want, and you can’t have them for one reason or another. There is nothing more frustrating. But we’re never actually alone, because we do have someone, someone greater than any human being on this earth, that will never leave us.

I want to lock my love together forever with someone someday. But until that day comes, I have to learn to be content to be locked to the one person who will make sure that I am never alone.

“About five years after St. Zenobius had been buried, there was a Bishop named Andrew, and this Holy Bishop summoned a great chapter of bishops and clerics, and said that they were to bear the body of St. Zenobius to the Cathedral Church of San Salvatore. On the 26th of January, he was un-buried and borne to the Church by four bishops; and these bishops bearing the body of St. Zenobius were so pressed upon by the people that they fell near an elm, which was close to the Church of St. John the Baptist. And when they fell, the body of St. Zenobius lay broken, so that the body touched the elm, and gradually, as the elm was touched, it brought forth flowers and leaves, and lasted all that year. The people, seeing the miracle, broke up all the elm, and with devotion carried the branches away as relics. And the Florentines, beholding what was done, made a column of marble with a cross where the elm had been, so that the miracle should ever be remembered by the people.”

- The Story of Florence by Edmund Garratt Gardner (10-11)

Farmer's Market: Picture Post

the view of the market from the church

The view from the other side of the Piazza

Some children playing on the steps of the orphanage

handmade soap from violet

carved soaps

There were so many things carved into wood,

but this one was my favorite. There are wooden whisks!!

the most beautiful artwork was the hand carved stones

Italians love figs! i fichi!!

We watched this vendor carving his merchandise

Which was on display here

Italy is all about cheese!! and there's a lot of it!

A farmer posed with his fruit for us

A solar cooker!! Our favorite part lol

Olive oil authentically made. Its the only kind of oil you will ever see in Italy.

Perche dove sono due o tre riuniti nel mio nome, li sono io in mezzo a loro.

What can I say about going to an Italian mass in one of the oldest, most historic, and most beautiful churches I have ever seen or even set foot in? it was breathtaking. Between trying to understand the language, say the responses, and pray, I was having trouble keeping my gaze from wandering to the thousands of details lining every inch of the basilica.

There was only one word to describe that church, regal. It was a depiction of the perfection that is Jesus, and the wonder and awe of his Resurrection. He is the king of kings, and that was his palace, just a small thank you for his great sacrifice.

The mass was the same, although in Italian, I said the proper responses in English, sometimes in Italian if they were written on the handout, kneeled, stood, and sat where it was appropriate, which was a huge comfort to fall back in to such a familiar and comfortable routine.

As I was walking back to my apartment after saying my goodbyes to the two friends who came with me, I took a moment, finally my first moment of peace, to take in my surroundings. There were people strolling about, and the sounds of Italians conversing filled the air.

You can always tell the Americans in this city. They are the ones walking fast with a look of purpose on their faces. The Italians are so much different. They walk and stroll hand in hand, arm in arm, enjoying the day and each others company. We in America live in such a technological and fast pace world that we don't stop to enjoy ourselves. I never noticed how fast I walked until I was stuck behind an Italian and couldn't get through.

Every day the city shuts down between 1 and 4pm, people go home, eat, close their businesses, take naps, lounge around. If you walk out into the street between those times you will be one of the only ones there. On Sundays nobody works, they take the day to enjoy the sweet surrender of doing nothing, something we know little about.

As I told my legs to slow down, to enjoy the walk, an automatic switch turned on in my brain, urging my legs to go faster. It took all my concentration to really walk like an Italian. But its something that I need to be able to do. Life is so short and if we walk too fast through it, we might get lost somewhere along the way, and not be able to find our way back. And when that happens, all our time was wasted because we spent the rest of our days sitting down because our feet were too tired to walk anymore.

One week down, countless to go.

So it’s been one week in Firenze Italia, and already I’m wondering why I never took the time to care about this place before.

My feet are covered in blisters, my legs in mosquito bites, I’m exhausted, sweaty, and sore, and yet I am the happiest girl that could have ever lived.

What can I say about Florence, what can I put into words to describe the sights, history, culture, and just immense beauty of this city that I am now to call my home?

St. Faustina said it best: “Can pen write down that for which many a time there are no words? But you give order to write, O God; That is good enough for me.”

I have found myself now in the midst of not only a strange city that seems to foreign, but also amongst people who are also foreign to me. Amongst all the preparations, the paperwork, the meetings, and the lists of information, there is one thing they forget to tell you.

You will feel completely and utterly alone.

It’s a difficult thing to travel 5,000 miles and end up on the other side in a beautiful place completely void of everything and everyone that you are familiar with. I was scared… no I was terrified. As emotional and stressful as this first week has been, I had to find comfort in the fact that I was surrounded by beauty in a place full of history, and distracted myself with learning and appreciating all of it. What I should have been doing is distracting myself with prayer.

In such a Catholicism centered city I was too preoccupied with appreciating it that I forgot to actually be a Catholic. So when everything started to fall apart I thought I knew why, I wanted to hit myself over the head for being stupid enough to think that I could get through any of this without the only person who could follow me around the world whenever and wherever I decided to go.

But that’s when, after calling my mom mid breakdown, she emailed me saying that she was still praying for me, and to not give up hope because everything would work out.

And that’s when I realized that I wasn’t actually alone. Things started to fall back into place. I found a perfect apartment at a great price, I found friends that won’t abandon me, other Catholics that appreciate what I appreciate in this incredible city, and so much more. And after every little thing I thanked God for being there for me even when I wasn’t for him.

And the reason why is that I’m not the only one praying for myself. I have an entire community of people back at home, lifting up their prayers, taking time out of their day, to ask God to help me out. That kind of love overwhelms and humbles me, and makes me wonder why I never thought about or noticed it before.

I know that I am never alone, because God is always with me, but I am also never alone because his love will not only follow me, but will also stay right at home, and it will never abandon me.

That’s what I learned this first week in Italia, and I’m sure there are many more lessons to come.

Ciao, A presto

Felicity