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Sunday I started my morning with Mission Xavier del Bac located on an Indian reservation. The mission is over 300 years old and is still an active parish. I got there in time for mass. No I have not been to mass in a long time but it felt like the correct place to be that morning. The church outside is white and stands in striking contrast to the desert. The mission is referred to as the White Dove of the desert. The inside of the church is very ornate and one has to be truly in awe of what was done so long ago. The mass was very traditional and reminded me of all those Sundays when I was a kid, fidgeting in my seat and dreading the kneeling as I always had skinned knees. My mom giving me the evil mom eye to sit still. My dad at home relaxing not for him anymore.
An older couple sat in front of me. The woman had a walker and had difficulty standing up and sitting back down but she did it every time. I could sense her faith just in the way she struggled to stand on each occasion. Her husband lending an arm and helping her to rise. My guess they have been married a long time. Behind me sat a young guy nicely dressed and alone. Seemed a little out of place. Until communion when he left and I thought he is ditching the rest of the service. Instead he went to get his grand mom, my guess, in a wheelchair and took her up to get communion. Bad for me he was definitely in the right place doing the right thing. His grand mom smiled brightly as he wheeled her down the aisle she reached to me and said peace be with you.
There is a statue of St. Francis Xavier lying as one might in death and a tradition where folks raise the statues head. It is believed that only those who are on good terms with St. Francis can raise the head. Now I kissed the Blarney stone in Ireland even though I felt it was more likely I would catch a cold than the gift of blarney but when in Rome. I did not try to lift that head because I felt like that tradition should be reserved for those who believed and not to be done on a whim. So I do not know if I am on good terms with St. Francis but I do hope so.
Outside the church there are many stands selling mainly fry bread and burros (which appears to the same as burrito). I tried the fry bread because you just have to. Dough flattened like a pizza, fried, and covered with your choice of honey, sugar or cinnamon or all three. I chose honey hoping that would be the least likely to put me in a sugar comma. It is as one would expect very tasty. Unfortunately they are also the size of a dinner plate so I had a few pieces and left the rest. The smell of the food being cooked is as good as the taste.
- comments
Jenny Hi Cindy, following your travels reflections and they are interesting reads. Enjoy while you take time off.
Vic Cindy, Your reflections tell me that you are really enjoying the trip so far. I am so happy for you. I'm a little behind but will catch up tomorrow at Lunch. Be well.