Alpini

This week we are up at a little ski town. You know, one of those high-altitude, happy-attitude villages permanently decorated with reindeer. Displays with Christmas lights and ornaments are up year-round in their shop windows. The majority of residents here are on vacation to enjoy the majesty of the Dolomites for their short stay. The place is called San Martino Di Castrozza.

We are here with about 200 other people part of the same Catholic movement. It’s like a church retreat- a week in the mountains to spend time together, pray, testify, sing, hike, and ponder. So basically everything I love. Best week ever. We have songs and prayers every morning and mass every evening. Give me the mountains, spirituality, good food and good people… and I couldn’t be happier. I am so grateful that the Facciolis are so generous to let me come share this experience with their family.

The hotel is vintage- old but fascinating. I feel like I am in the Tower of Terror before it was covered in cobwebs (an old DisneyLand ride). There are chandeliers, massive old paintings, and antique pieces of furniture. The stairs have a red rug secured into place by brass hinges, the sofas have a floral pattern in the green corduroy fabric, and the drapes over each window have tassels and fringes. When I described the place as “fancy” Francesco retorted that this hotel is “run down.” Maybe they just don’t make things the way they used to.

The best part of the hotel is the food. Yes, you read that right. Beforehand I was bracing myself for five days of hotel food. From my experience that meant the subpar breakfasts you find at American hotels with dry cereals and packaged radioactive material and, if you are really lucky, a bruised apple. This is not that. The hotel provides breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How weird is that? Even weirder, the food is good.

Breakfast is buffet style with warm croissants set at the table and the bar lined with fruits, pastries, yogurts, eggs and bacon and more. Lunch and dinner will really blow your mind. They serve us. The hotel has servers! What kind of hotel is this? Francesco says it is typical. You shouldn’t have to worry about food on vacation. The table is set with an antipasto (starter), and the staff brings us progressively the first and second plates. I’ve learned that first plate means carbs and second plate means meat. But don’t forget about the salad bar, fruit and dessert. Disclaimer: this food isn’t as good as Maria’s cooking.

I retract my previous statement: The best part of the hotel is actually the location. It sits at the base of the Italian Dolomites. I could stare at their sharp, dramatic slopes and ridges for hours. I walked to a little bench near a ski lift for my scripture study this morning just as a few rays of sunlight made their way over the stony peaks.

“For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee.” -Isaiah 54:10

Moving the Dolomites would take some serious power. I can’t imagine the destructive amounts of force and energy it would take. It seems almost impossible. Even more immovable, even more constant, infinitely more reliable is God’s love for us. God will be a Loving Father and Covenant Keeper longer than these mountains will stand. That is the God I worship.

That is also the God the Facciolis worship. Although we worship Him in different ways, I believe that He loves us both very much. My favorite part of the worship here is the singing. Some prayers are sung and some songs are prayers and it’s all music to my soul.

Today the whole company walked to a pond and park for the children to play at. We all gathered on a grassy hill and joined in song. I listened, hanging on to every note. They were singing the “Alpini.” These are songs that the mountain soldiers sang during war. One of my favorites was Signore delle Cime (God of the Peaks).

Dio del cielo, Signore delle cime,
un nostro amico hai chiesto alla montagna,
ma ti preghiamo, ma ti preghiamo,
su nel Paradiso, su nel Paradiso,
lascialo andare per le tue montagne.

Santa Maria, Signora della neve,
copri col bianco, soffice mantello,
il nostro amico, il nostro fratello,
su nel Paradiso, su nel Paradiso,
lascialo andare per le tue montagne.

It is a song to God about a fallen brother in the battle. The words petition God of the mountains, God of the snow, to let this brother and friend walk the mountains in heaven. The Alpini songs tug at my heart.

Speaking of my heart… For those of you back home who have been pestering me about the handsome Italian men, I know it’s been disappointing to hear how empty handed I’ve been so far. I’ve been having too much fun with beautiful Italian children to be on the look out for beautiful Italian men.

The update is that I’ve finally spotted one! He is gorgeous in all the ways you are imagining right now. Tall, dark, dreamy eyes: everything you were hoping he’d be. He’s here with the church group. Maybe it’s just in my head but I swear we keep making eye-contact. There’s only one minor complication that would keep him from marrying me… or anyone… ever.

He is a Catholic priest.

Big bummer. What a waste of a beautiful face. They really need to make a rule that bans attractive people from becoming priests. It just isn’t fair. This guy is young, spiritual, handsome, and Italian. He also has a beautiful singing voice. What more could a girl want? Oh well. RIP me because I’ve fallen for a Catholic priest. I wonder if he’d change his mind if I slid some toast under his door and sang to him about breaking our vows together, Nacho Libre style. One can dream.