#sdstate

It’s our last morning in Rome. We’re headed to the airport by 8:30am for our first flight to Amsterdam. Thankfully, check-in and security are quick (unlike when we were leaving Barcelona four years ago) and we’re at the gate with plenty of time to get snacks and spend our last few euros. I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy moving through airports with our large group of 80, but it’s going perfectly well.

Our flight from Rome to Amsterdam takes just over two hours, and I sleep through the whole thing—maybe the first time I’ve missed a meal served on an international flight. We have a short layover in Amsterdam where we get our passports stamped for departure from the EU. I get a ham and cheese croissant and a Coke with the last of my change. The Amsterdam airport seems very nice from what I can see.

Soon we’re settling in on our plane bound for Minneapolis. This is a much nicer plane than we had two weeks ago on our flight from Atlanta to Paris. It’s a bit of an awkward time to fly, since we leave in the late afternoon and will arrive in Minneapolis at about 7:00pm local time. I’m hoping to get at least a few more hours of sleep in if possible. When we get back to the U.S., I have to drive our van back to Brookings, so I want to have as much energy for that as possible.

I spend the flight listening to music, watching a bit of Netflix, catching up on writing from the past couple days, and trying to sleep as much as I can. I think I succeed in getting a couple hours, though it’s not particularly deep sleep. I’m looking forward to being back in the U.S., and I’m thankful for smooth travels thus far. The only reminding hurdle is getting the van from airport parking and hitting the road with my little crew back to Brookings.

Today is our last full day in Rome and it’s also my 25th birthday. We have the day free for independent exploration and I have a couple things on my list of must-sees before we leave Italy.

I head down for breakfast around 9:30am and see a few choristers getting ready for the day as well. I have some corn flakes, bacon, eggs, and fruit and talk with Dr. Diddle a little before heading to meet a few friends who have just come down and gotten a table of their own. The rest of the crew needs a little while longer to get ready to leave, so it’s nearly 11:30am by the time we leave the hotel heading for the Pantheon. Miranda, Cari, and Sylvie headed out early this morning to see a couple churches: Santa Maria Maggiore, St. John Lateran, and St. Augustine, where St. Monica is buried. We’re meeting them at the Pantheon at noon.

We have public transportation passes for the day, so we take the bus for 20 minutes and only have to walk a couple blocks. This is super handy, and having my phone activated turns out to be helpful in navigating the bus system later this afternoon. There is a fountain in the piazza outside the Pantheon where we meet the girls to head inside.

The Pantheon is a perfect circle with a massive bronze dome and large “demon’s hole” at its peak that is open to the elements. Originally built as a temple to all gods (as the name suggests), it was later taken over by the Christians and transformed into a church for St. Mary of the Martyrs. It’s a strange church, though, because of its shape and classical/pagan architecture. Still, it’s gorgeous—lots of gold and multicolored marble, ornately carved capitals on columns lining the walls. Raphael Santi, artist extraordinaire, is buried here along with a few other presumably notable individuals. As iconic as the Pantheon is and as glad I am to have seen it, I’m not sure it’s something I would need to come back to.

From here, our groups splits up based on what folks want to do for the rest of the afternoon. I definitely want to go to Castel Sant’Angelo but most others aren’t that interested. Scott and Sylvie want to come along, so we go to lunch with Cari and Miranda while the others head out for some street food and shopping. The five of us have lunch at a restaurant on the piazza just outside the Pantheon, so the view is fantastic. I have a delicious mushroom tortellini and it’s one of the best meals I’ve had in Italy.

After lunch, Sylvie decides to do go shopping with Miranda and Cari, so Scott and I head to Castel Sant’Angelo just the two of us. We head back to the bus stop nearby and ride a few stops toward the Tiber, then cross the Ponte Sant’Angelo on foot, flanked by 10 carved angels holding instruments of the crucifixion.

We’re delighted to find out that the price for a student ticket is just 2 euro since the original price is 15 euro. Castel Sant’Angelo was originally built as a mausoleum for the Roman emperor Hadrian. Since then, it has been modified a couple times into a fortress and subsequently a secondary residence for the pope in cases of emergency. In fact, there remains a walkway along the aqueduct that linked the papal apartments at Castel Sant’Angelo directly to the Vatican, though it hasn’t been used in many years.

We start at ground level and slowly ascend through the cylindrical center of the fortress, its four bastions, and the various courtyards and apartments at the top of the cylinder. About halfway up there is an overlook with great views of Vatican City and the Tiber, but we keep going up and the views from the top of the fortress are stunning. From here, right under the bronze statue of Michael the Archangel that crowns the castle, we can see most of Rome. The skyline is a curious and beautiful mix of terra cotta rooftops, domes of the city’s many churches and basilicas, and a few towering classical monuments like the Pantheon and Colosseum. It’s a fantastic view—a great treat for my birthday.

It’s nearing 3:00pm, so we wind our way back down through the castle and back to the bus stop so we can get back to the hotel and change into our tuxedos before we need to leave for our evening concert at 4:10. We make it in good time. Our concert this evening is at St. Paul’s Within the Walls, an Episcopal church that Mauro tells us was the first non-Catholic church to be built inside the walls of the ancient city (which still stand, marking the boundaries of the city center).

We have a smaller audience tonight than we’ve had so far, but that’s okay since this concert is more for ourselves. Dr. Diddle has the seniors and those leaving the choir after this semester come down in front before the concert, and emotions are running a bit high as we sing with many of our friends for the last time. Dr. Diddle herself seems to get emotional during There Is No Rose, which really hits me. After the concert, we all mill around for about half an hour as folks hug and cry and take photos commemorating our last concert in Italy and these seniors’ last performance with us.

We walk back to the hotel and change for our farewell dinner, which is at a nice restaurant nearby. Our large group takes up the entire second floor. I sit with Micah, Emily, Lauren, and Ted. We have an antipasti of prosciutto and mozzarella, a mushroom lasagna, pork with gravy and roasted potatoes, and some sort of frozen praline for dessert (no one can figure out what this was exactly). I ask for a glass of wine at the beginning of the meal and end up with a whole bottle. During dinner, we reflect on the trip and how we’re thankful to have gotten to know each other better over these past two weeks. I didn’t expect to get to hang out with these cool folks so much, but I’m so glad we’ve become better friends. It makes me feel more positively about the semester to come knowing I have a few good friends left after Miranda and Sylvie leave for student teaching.

Emily and Lauren get our side of the room to sing Happy Birthday to me at the beginning of the meal. Near the end of the meal after Dr. Diddle and Mauro and Elisabetta have made a few remarks, unexpectedly, the lights dim and the servers bring out a pie with a birthday candle for me to blow out. The whole room sings for me again and Mauro brings a Mylar balloon in the shape of a bottle of champagne and a gold star with “#1 Traveler” on it since I’ve taken so many trips through Seminars and study abroad at SDSU.

All in all, this was a beautiful birthday. The timing couldn’t have been better—to coincide with our last concert and farewell dinner was kismet. My friends and fellow choristers have made me feel so loved all day, and I’m incredibly grateful. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this birthday in Rome.

We’re able to sleep in a bit this morning before leaving the hotel for our day of service at three different soup kitchens across Rome. My group is heading out of the city to nearby Ostia, a port city on the coast. It takes about an hour of driving to get out of the city, and we get to see parts of Rome we haven’t yet seen. There’s a neighborhood out here built by Mussolini in the style of fascist architecture that is pretty neat, along with a lot of ruins as we get closer to Ostia. Some of the adults in our group are going to spend the day exploring an archaeological dig site while we are working at the soup kitchen.

There are about five workers at the soup kitchen and none of them speak much English, so Mauro translates. The man in charge talks to us about the services the center offers, their usual clientele, how many guests we can expect, and the various jobs they need help with. We sing a couple songs as guests are entering for their meal and then again after most people have started eating. I spend most of my time refilling water pitchers and helping clear trays. It’s clear almost immediately that there are too many of us here, so lots of folks are standing around at any moment.

We all have lunch and sit with the guests. Others are having conversations depending on how much English the guests speak; I sit next to a gruff-looking man and we don’t talk at all, which is okay with me. Later, a shipment of donations arrives that we help unload. Some got to take a look at the shelter where men and women sleep, but this doesn’t sound like something I need to see. I’m already feeling a bit conflicted about how helpful we’re actually being here, and I don’t feel the need to gawk at the conditions or intrude or pity. As we’re wrapping up, we take a few too many self-congratulatory photos if you ask me, but the folks from the center say we’ve been great and can come back any time.

I nap on the drive back into the city and take some time during our break to catch up on writing, sort through photos, and rest for our concert tonight. We leave the hotel in the early evening to head to our concert venue, the Basilica of St. Eustace (San Eustachio). It’s another gorgeous church and a pretty good crowd. I think we sound the best yet on a few of our songs here, and our Head Table set is especially fun tonight. I’m going to miss singing with this group once tour is over; Head Table has been an incredibly fun and meaningful musical experience this semester.

Today we are heading to Vatican City. This morning we’re touring the Vatican Museums, the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter’s Basilica, and early this evening we are singing for Mass at St. Peter’s. I’m thankful to be feeling 100% again today.

Our same local guide from yesterday, Linda, meets us at the hotel and rides with us to Vatican City. Once inside the Vatican Museums, I realize I’ve been mistaken about what these are. I’d thought these would be museums about the Vatican and the history of the Catholic Church, with relics and historical artifacts and documents from across the church’s 2,000-year history. Instead, the museums house the Vatican’s collection of art—sculpture, paintings, maps, tapestries, etc.—collected across the ages. Given the age, wealth, and influence of the Vatican, it’s a pretty great collection. We walk through entire rooms dedicated to particular types of sculptures, long corridors lined with giant tapestries or intricate maps of Italy, and several courtyards where popes of old wandered or reclined.

While outside in one of the courtyards, our guide explains the art inside the Sistine Chapel, since guides are not allowed to explain it once we’re inside. There are large placards scattered throughout the courtyard for precisely this purpose. Linda tells us that Michelangelo famously painted the ceiling featuring scenes from Genesis along with his Last Judgement on the far wall, while the walls were painted by other masters years earlier. We examine the placard showing the ceiling and the Last Judgement as Linda points out their curiosities, including some of Michelangelo’s signature details and the faces of some of his detractors on their way to Hell.

Our winding tour through the museums leads us into the Sistine Chapel. We’re not allowed to take photos inside, but I can’t resist discretely capturing a few snapshots. It’s a little overwhelming inside, since nearly ever inch of every surface is painted with a colorful biblical scene. Don’t get me wrong, these are masterpieces, but t’s like I don’t know where to look. I spend most of my time admiring the Last Judgment and trying to soak up this place where popes are elected. I wish we’d learned about the election process in a bit more detail; this is one of quite a few areas where Linda falls short for us, but there is just a ton of stuff to look at and go over here. It would probably take days or weeks to fully appreciate all that the Vatican has to offer, but we’re doing it in less than a day.

From the Sistine Chapel, we head into St. Peter’s Basilica. Entering the basilica for the first time is a special moment; it’s mesmerizing. The best adjective I can use to describe St. Peter’s is BIG. And gold. (It’s the largest church in the world, of course.) The dome itself is five stories high. The apse is at least as large as our churches at home. Each of the side chapels is massive and ornately decorated, many with popes buried within. We don’t spend nearly enough time in here, which makes me glad we’ll be returning this afternoon for Mass. I capture as much as I can on my camera to admire and remember later. Much too soon, Linda escorts us out. I’m irked at how little time we’ve gotten inside before needing to move on to lunch.

More irksome still, we zip outside St. Peter’s square to show the group our mid-afternoon meeting point without so much as a glance at the piazza. I immediately rush back inside the courtyard for the rest of our free time (about 45 minutes) to walk around and just soak it all in. I get some great photos, especially once I take out my zoom lens. I’m glad to have this time to explore the square by myself; I wish I’d had this time to be inside the basilica, too.

I head to our meeting point outside a large souvenir shop. I’m early, so I head inside and pick up a couple souvenirs for my family since I’ve been pretty lax about souvenir shopping up to this point. (Souvenirs just aren’t always important to me; I like photos and memories.) Once the group has assembled, we walk through an underground passageway to a surprisingly nice parking garage where our buses are waiting. For lunch this afternoon we’re going to Trastevere, the area, literally, “across the Tiber.” It’s a quieter, more authentic neighborhood with lots of restaurants and cafes along small side streets and miniature piazzas.

A group of eight of us (most of the usuals and a few fresh faces) find a family-owned restaurant called Mario’s that is offering a three-course lunch special for 16 euro. Dollar for dollar, this is probably the best meal of the trip for its value. We start with red wine and bread, then I have a first course of spaghetti al pomodoro (with tomato sauce), a second course of pork steak, and tiramisu for dessert. It’s all delicious. Strangely, this is the first time I’ve had spaghetti during the entire trip.

We wander around the neighborhood a bit looking for coffee, then wait for a little while back in the square close to where the buses will meet us shortly. There’s a footbridge that I step onto briefly for views of the Tiber, though the view from here is nothing special.

We bus back to St. Peter’s square, where we stand in line for about 30 minutes to get back in the basilica. Once inside, we have another 15-20 minutes to explore and use the restroom before getting set for our performance at 5:00pm Mass. Somehow we’re able to fit the entire choir in the small space near the organ clearly made for a choir half our size.

We sing Angele Dei before Mass, Hodie Christus Natus Est and the Prayer of St. Francis during, and There Is No Rose after. No doubt this is one of my favorite performances of the trip. I spend the entire Mass looking around at the gorgeous basilica and marveling at the fact that I got to sing here in my lifetime. This is a memory I’ll cherish for a long time.

On the way out, I squeeze in a few more minutes of exploring and picture-taking. The inside of the basilica takes on a warmer glow after sunset without the intrusion of natural light. Cari and I are seemingly bringing up the rear of our group on the way out of the basilica and back to the bus, but when we get to the parking garage, we realize Miranda is missing. There are a few minutes of panicked waiting and searching before we are able to get in touch with her, and soon enough she is back on the bus and we’re on our way. Evidently Miranda was behind Cari and me and we didn’t know to look for her as we were leaving.

I wake up this morning at about 8:30am, having slept since yesterday afternoon at about 3:00pm. Even as a person known for sleeping in fairly often, I can’t remember another time when I’ve slept this long. It seems to have done the trick, though; my stomach feels settled, my body is no longer shaky or sore, and I feel much more like myself.

Today is Epiphany. Most of our group is at the Vatican this morning attending Mass with the Pope in St. Peter’s Basilica. I forfeited my ticket thanks to my stomach bug and another member of the choir was able to use it instead. So far it’s been a slow morning for me—gradually returning to the world of the living, writing a bit, and getting ready for the day.

We spend the afternoon exploring the Roman Forum and the Colosseum. Our local guide for the day is named Linda. She tells us about some of the history of the Roman Empire while we walk among the ruins in the forum. The only buildings that have been completely preserved are those that were turned into churches after the fall of the Roman Empire and the rise of Christianity. We walk along streets that have existed for 2,000 years, past remains of old temples, palaces, and markets. This forum is much better preserved than that in Athens, though it takes quite a bit of imagination to reconstruct the area fully.

By mid-afternoon, we’re entering the Colosseum. We enter on the ground level and shortly climb up to the first level of seating, where middle-class citizens (men) would have watched the games. The levels above would have held women, slaves, and the poor; marble seating in the level below was reserved for the rich and royal. Curiously, near one entrance is a cross, which was placed there by Pope Benedict XIV in honor of those who lost their lives here. This juxtaposition of Ancient Roman and Christian seems strange to me, but later we learn that the Pope visits the Colosseum once a year during a procession across the city.

It’s estimated that between 500,000 and 1 million people died in the Colosseum, since several were killed there each day between public executions and gladiatorial combat over its hundreds of years of operation. Linda tells us that there was a kind of routine at the Colosseum: In the morning, gladiators-in-training would spar; around noon, criminals would be executed; in the afternoon, professional gladiators would compete. The area beneath the arena descends nine stories where animals were kept for days leading up to their time in the arena. We see some remnants of the machinery used to operate lifts and gates that existed here, though we’re not able to tour the underground portion.

All in all, the Colosseum is pretty amazing. It’s a bit smaller than I had envisioned, and it appears larger from the outside, but it’s a magnificent structure considering the technology available at the time of its construction. I think more education about Roman history and the specifics of the sites would be helpful for a return visit to the Colosseum and Roman Forum.

After leaving the Colosseum, we walk along the eastern side of the forum next to Trajan’s forum and a series of statues built to commemorate Roman emperors. Our tour ends in a square that was redesigned in Renaissance style by Michelangelo. From here, some of the group are venturing out into this part of the city for the evening, while others are heading back to the hotel.

When we get back to the hotel, most folks head back up to our rooms for a nap before dinner. I spend some time going through my photos from the past couple days, catching up on the day’s writing, and resting for a bit. From what I heard on the bus, it sounds like some groups are going out for American food tonight.

I meet up with Miranda and Sylvie later for some supper at a restaurant around the corner from our hotel. I have lasagna and roasted potatoes—my first food in two days since being sick. It tastes good and stays down. Afterwards, we pop into a grocery store looking for a couple toiletries and then Miranda and Sylvie continue down the street looking for gelato while I wait in the lobby. I FaceTime with Laura briefly to say hello and catch up a bit. Then the three of us go up to the girls’ room (which is large and suitable for partying) to chat and laugh at some SNL sketches.

Today is tough. I woke up in the middle of the night to throw up a few times along with some diarrhea. I sleep a couple hours before the morning and slowly get ready for the day. I’ve already informed Dr. Diddle and our leaders that I’m not feeling well. I get some help bringing my luggage down to the bus, but I throw up again before boarding. Now I’ve lost all the water I’ve been drinking since I was last up at about 4:30am. Others hand me plastic bags and napkins for the bus ride just in case. I have a seat at the very back of the bus where I can spread out a little bit and remain out of the way of others.

Thankfully, I’m able to sleep during our drive from Assisi to Orvieto, which takes about an hour and half. Along the way, our bus gets stopped by the police for a routine safety check, which delays us slightly. I can hear Mauro telling us about Orvieto as we approach the city, still drifting in and out of sleep. I use the bathroom once we arrive and decide to stick it out and go with the group up to the city.

We take the funicular (sort of like a ski lift or trolley car) up the side of the mountain to Orvieto and walk a ways to get to the city center. I’m still not feeling well, but the fresh air feels good. Since I can’t eat or drink anything, I forego lunch to check out the exterior of the basilica here, which is reminiscent of Il Duomo in Florence. I get some Sprite and water from a grocery store and drink a little bit while walking around. Back near the funicular station, I stop at an overlook for views of the valley below and sit on a bench in the public garden for a while.

The group reconvenes at 12:30pm to head back down to the bus. We have to wait a bit for the funicular to depart, and at this point I’m sick of people asking me how I’m doing, and I just want to be by myself somewhere quiet. I use the restroom again before boarding the bus, and I’m grateful that sleep comes easy on the rest of our drive to Rome.

I keep my hood up and sleeping mask on as we approach Rome, though I can hear Mauro introducing the sights we pass on our drive to our hotel at the center of the city. I’m nervous to be anything but asleep, since I might get sick or at least feel miserable while conscious.

I exit the bus and grab my luggage in a fog. The hotel seems very nice. We make our way up to our room and I prepare for bed, though it’s only 3:00pm. I’m not going along with the group on their walking tour, though it means I’ll miss the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, and Spanish Steps. We have plenty of free time over the next few days when I can see those on my own.

In the morning light we can see Assisi for the first time. It’s a bit gray and foggy this morning, but by mid-afternoon the sun will be shining. After breakfast, I step onto the balcony of the hotel restaurant to look out over the valley below us in the daylight. In the distance I can see the Basilica di Santa Maria di Los Angeles, built in the spot where St. Francis died.

Our local guide, Eduardo, meets us at the hotel and we walk to the Bacilica di San Francesco. Surrounding the basilica is an entire complex where up to 100 Franciscan friars live. The basilica is rather unique in that it contains two churches, one built on top of the other. The lower church is more Romanesque with a shallower ceiling while the upper church is Gothic and quite a bit taller. Photos aren’t allowed in most of the places we explore today, so I don’t have my own pictures of the inside to share. In both the upper and lower churches, the walls and ceilings are covered in colorful Byzantine-style frescoes depicting scenes from the gospel and St. Francis’s life. The floor (and presumably the walls underneath the frescoes) is made of local marble, which is white, pink, and brown. We’ll see this same type of stone in other places across town.

Eduardo is a former law professor and has lived in Assisi for 40 years. He tells us about the life of St. Francis, some of which is depicted in the frescoes around us. St. Francis’s given name was actually John, but his mother used to call him her “little Frenchman,” which was translated to Francesco in Italian and became the name he was known for later in life. When St. Francis was about 23 years old, he left his family (his father had been rather harsh when Francis did not show interest in taking over the family business, including chaining him in the cellar for a week) for the church. St. Francis received the stigmata at 42 and later died at 44, having bled from his wounds constantly during that time. It is said that near his death, Francis left Assisi to go a small chapel in the valley below, and at the moment of his death, lights came down from the heavens to escort his soul to God. This and other miraculous events were recounted during St. Francis’s canonization, which was completed within just 18 months of his death.

St. Francis’s remains are buried in a crypt underneath the lower church. It’s a strange feeling to be within inches of a saint’s body and to be able to touch the stone surrounding their remains—a saint as widely known as St. Francis, no less. Though we know this intellectually, I’m struck now in a more profound way that all the saints, apostles, and of course Jesus himself were real people who walked the earth and lived lives not entirely different from ours. It’s hard to be disconnected from all of that when you’re walking the same streets they walked and seeing their very bones before you.

Next, we head across town to the Basilica di San Chiara (St. Clare). St. Clare founded an order of religious sisters that remains in existence today. The basilica is notable for containing a crucifix in which Jesus is depicted with his eyes open. Eduardo tells us this is in line with the Byzantine tradition, which emphasized the resurrection more than the crucifixion. St. Clare’s remains are kept in a beautiful crypt below the basilica, along with several relics from her and St. Francis: clothes, belongings, even locks of hair. While accounts differ, St. Clare’s body is said to be incorrupt, meaning it has not decayed over the centuries. At her tomb, there is a waxy figure dressed in her clothes laying atop what I had thought was her sarcophagus. We later learn this was Clare’s remains encased in beeswax. Again, I’m moved in seeing the remains and relics of these important figures in the history of the church, preserved over centuries.

Lunch and afternoon exploration is on our own. Miranda, Sylvie, Ted, and I grab lunch at a restaurant just off of Piazza del Comune at the city center. Miranda has a Parmesan ravioli and the other three of us have a lasagna made with sausage and broccoli in a white sauce. We get a bottle of local red wine to share. It’s all delicious—perhaps some of the best food we’ve had yet.

After lunch, we grab a pastry and meet up with some of our other friends to climb up to the Rocca Maggiore, a castle that sits at the top of the mountain above Assisi. It’s rather standard and plain as far as castles go. There are a few rooms that contain some pieces of armor or old decorations, and there is an exhibit showing some sort of medieval fair that was held in the town recently. At the top of the tower, our little group sings a couple songs because the acoustics are fantastic. Outside the castle, I walk to the other side of the hill for a view of this part of the valley. Before arriving in Italy, I’d had no idea the country was so mountainous.

On the way down from the castle, we divert from the route we took up the hill to check out the Cathedral of St. Rufino, who was the first bishop of Assisi. This is the third major church in this small town, and we visited one more smaller church on our walk this morning. Everyone heads their separate ways, some to shop, some to nap, and Ted and I go to the Roman forum, an underground excavation of the Roman ruins beneath Piazza del Comune. While exploring these, I remember seeing similar things in Greece and having to use quite a bit of imagination to picture what once existed here. Above ground, we also stop inside the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, a Roman temple to Minerva that was later taken over by the Christians. This temple was once the centerpiece of the the Roman forum whose ruins remain about 10 feet below.

From here, Ted and I split up and I walk along a few shops back toward the Basilica of St. Francis. I find a rosary that I like and enjoy some quiet time outside the basilica watching the sun descend over the horizon. I return to the hotel in time for a 20-minute nap before changing into my tuxedo and heading downstairs to meet the rest of the group to head to dinner. We have dinner at a restaurant up the street called Buca di San Francesco. It’s a three-course meal of bruschetta, chicken and potatoes, and a chocolate apple pastry. Throughout dinner, several folks get sick or have to leave to go back to the hotel. A few people have gotten sick up to this point and have stayed behind for various parts of our tour. From the looks of it, we’ll be down about 10 singers for our concert tonight.

After dinner we walk to the Basilica of St. Francis, where we’ll be performing at 9:00pm in the lower church. By the time we start, the place is about half full, with more and more people trickling in as the concert goes on. By the end, we’re singing to a full house, whose enthusiastic applause prompts us to sing an encore of the Prayer of St. Francis. It’s pretty special to be singing that song (twice) just feet above where St. Francis is buried.