Thursday, September 06, 2007


I had original heard this was the church built by St. Felicia- from my family line. I'm staying at the refigio here. Gourmet dinner cooked by he caretaker and a private candelight prayer service including a reading that I did about...foosteps, followed by Ave Maria - more signifigance. I was asked to say grace at dinner. This place was too moving for words. The Mother and Child at this church is very unique to me, but much like others in the area (almost Egyptian-like) in their representation.

Update....So the church of St. Felicia is actually in Jean....made a gourmet dinner, so wonderful. The prayer service was by candlelight. We each read a portion of the service in our own language. My portion was the prayer about footprints ... a favorite of mine and especially important because of the footprint pins that Dwight sent me to give out on the Camino.

Ave Maria was sung at my mother´s funeral and at Robert's. It means the world to me.

Desert was a custard with a little kiwi slice and the ever familiar (and much needed) yellow arrow. With our breakfast setting, Jean had a little polished rock with "Eunate" scripted on one side, the famous yellow arrow on the other. The detail to which he went to was amazing. The arrow pointed the direction of the Camino based on where the place setting was located in relationship to the trail.

I passed six nuns on the side road to get there (2 km out of the way). The first three tried to talk to me in Spanish. We did not do well, however they wished me buen camino. The 2nd set of two were patient and we got a lot shared. They told me there were several chicas at the church refuge. They looked at my necklace.....St. James, my Paris angel and my Miraculous Medal and then began hugging and kissing me and wishing me well. The 6th nun saw me crying (overwhelmed at the love of the two previous) asked me about my condition and also, wished me well. I love nuns, always have. Mother Anne´s warm hands are universal and very comforting to me. Then I get to Eunate and Jean is French. I lost my French over El Perdon. Spanish is all I speak now. Rudamentary, but it is what it is. This is a picture of Jean and me in front of the church.

Wikipedia sobre Eunate:

I am very happy to NOT see El Perdon´s windmills any more. I thought I´d never lose that damn mountain range.

1 comment:

Heather said...