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.