Sometimes Rome Makes Me Cry!

I must confess that Rome moves me to tears at times.

A couple weeks ago Brian and I took the Metro across town to the birthday party of our new friends' daughter. Coming out into the street, we drank in the gorgeous early evening air. I said, "Let's go for a passagiata!" (the Italians' customary evening walk). Now there's a benefit of being empty-nesters: impromptu change of plans just to seize the moment! Yet we had celebrated the first year of a cherubic little girl's life -- a few days after celebrating our own little girl's college grad in Ohio -- and our hearts were warmed by the blessing of children.

Anyway, we pondered where to go for our evening stroll. The challenge in Rome this half of the year is to avoid the hordes of tourists. I exclaimed, "Let's go up on Aventine Hill!" -- a spot that new friends from Agape had shown us. Yes, let's, and watch the sunset from there. So off we went, climbing up the road away from the Circus Maximus. There's a park filled with orange trees, next to an ancient cloister. The park looks directly over the Tiber River, and there's a sort of platform with a marble wall on which to lean, or if you dare, to sit. And from here is one of Rome's incomparable panoramic vistas.

When we approached we discovered quite a number of Romans already "waiting"-- and not one tourist -- only locals out on their passagiata too. Here they were, gathered as if summoned on a sultry Tuesday evening to admire the sunset! To my right, an old gentleman at the wall played the poet and philosopher as he eloquently described how a sunset should give pause for reflection on one's day, as one's life. To my left, a young woman and her sweetheart leaned while she was sketching the event with rapid strokes on a scrap of writing paper. "Ahh, just look", everyone murmured to each other. The sun was descending behind St. Peter's dome, behind Janiculum Hill's row of umbrella pines, casting a pink hue over all the ancient Roman architecture. I said to the artist, "Bravissima!" (You're very good!). She smiled and didn't stop.

Finally the show was over, and with sighs of satisfaction, the small crowd broke up. Can you imagine what romantic souls these are who seek out a vantage point on a work night just to witness such a routine occurrence? To ooh and aah such a "common" spectacle? It makes me appreciate the Romans: they are definitively Romantic! As we left to head down the hill, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the artist. She held out her completed sketch. "Oh no, I said, I couldn't accept that." She insisted, with an broad smile. Tears came to my eyes. Such exuberant generosity! Me, a total stranger -- she joyfully gave me a beautiful gift for the sheer pleasure of sharing a moment not to forget.

"It is more blessed to give than to receive," Jesus said. I felt so grateful to God: for the exquisite sunset over Rome, for the spontaneous gesture of generosity, for this sign from my Maker that he loves me and has me just where I belong. It moves me to tears.