The City of Peace

I hiked along a path called “The Peace Walk.” With such a title it felt almost like a pilgrimage, like I was walking on holy ground. It helped that it was a fast Sunday (a little extra sacred and special), and after church I had taken the train back to Rovereto and walked from there. Sweat was soaking into the back of my dress where it pressed against my backpack which was laden with precious cargo. The steep trail took me up to a bell that defines the culture of Rovereto, Italy. This bell is a symbol of Rovereto as a whole. It is “The Bell of the Fallen.”

The first time I saw this bell, I was on a run with Francesco along the Adige river. I heard a distant clanging and said, “That can’t be a church bell, what is it?” Francesco directed my gaze across the valley to a flash of light glinting off metal as an apparently enormous bell was swinging back and forth. He told me about the peace bell, and of Rovereto’s claim to the “City of Peace.” I decided that I had to go see this huge bell. My mom’s maiden name is Bell, after all.

The Walk of Peace path took me to the entrance. I didn’t know that there would be an entrance. I guess I just assumed the bell would be in the open of a park or meadow. It turns out that to get to the bell you have to go through a whole peace exhibit, and luckily for me, it was open.

The exhibit was like a provoking art museum, every piece making a statement about war or social justice or hope for a better world. Some of the pieces I loved, and some of them I hated (but I suppose that’s probably what the artists were going for). Some of the artists’ statements I agreed with, others I did not.

A couple of artist shunned religion, which saddened me. In our efforts to protect freedom of religion (the right to worship or not worship whoever you choose) we must be careful not to slip into freedom from religion (the attitude that religion is generally bad). I do not think the walk towards peace is a walk away from religion. In fact, I believe that to walk in peace is to walk with God.

I took my time, like I always do in art museums. I’ve discovered that my favorite way to go through an art museum is alone, unless of course my companion is willing to slow things down as I let my eyes and mind rest on each painting. No rush. I love getting lost in a frame, scrutinizing individual strokes of paint and consuming each detail individually and then as a whole. If I had the time and talent I would be an artist. I only know enough to feel like I can appreciate the work of artists with some degree of understanding that masterpieces are truly a feat.

I exited into the daylight of a concrete stadium where the Bell of the Fallen sat. I had read on signs along the Peace Walk that this bell has been visited by many important people: kings and presidents, priests and diplomats. I wasn’t sure if I counted as an “important person” but I told myself that to God I was. I approached the bell composed as a queen.

The Bell of the Fallen is dedicated to the fallen soldiers, not from one army or another but from both. It was forged from the melted canons from opposing sides of the front line. Its poetic birth is surely what has inspired the ruckus and artwork about world peace here. The concept is inspiring. The bell acknowledges war and loss while pointing out how we can move forward and look past the frontiers that divide us into the humanity that unites us.

On a hill near the bell are flags from many nations. The hope is that one day all nations will be committed to peace. Also in the park area I saw three trees of great significance side by side: a fig tree, a palm tree, and an olive tree. These trees are deeply rooted in rich symbolism.

Rovereto, the city of peace. A perfect place of refuge for a young woman searching for peace of mind. It was not on accident that God sent me here, not only to Italy, but specifically here to the city of peace.

After a ride home and taking off my Sunday shoes (not great for walking distances in, I discovered), I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the gift: five books for the Facciolis. It is the least I can give to a family I love so much. I thought it was fitting that these books made the trek with me along the peace path and to the great bell. If there was ever a book that can connect us to The Prince of Peace and teach us His ways, this is the one. The words of God found in the pages of The Book of Mormon have brought me more peace in my life than anything.