L'Italo-Americano

www.italoamericano.org 10 THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2018 L'Italo-Americano THOMAS VESCE O n one of my many trips to Italy in the early 1980s, I had the good fortune to visit with Father Romano Romani, a friend of my good friend, Dr. Colosi, a pre- eminent physician of New York City. F r. Romano w as the nephew of Pope John 23rd and although well positioned to be named to higher ecclesiastic pos itions , he w as content to serve humbly as secretary to the bishop of Rome (John Paul II) without any other fuss and cere- mony. This did not mean that he was just another of the many clerics serving in the Vatican. Not at all. In fact, his office was quite a prominently placed one with a window just to the right of the famous balcony of St. Peter where the world, when the time comes, waits to hear the announcement of the successful candidate to the papacy. Father was a man of great piety and incorruptible to the point that he would not accept presents of any sort, or invita- tions to lunch, dinner or what- ever. But his innate grace and sincere hospitality always moti- vated him to extend extraordi- nary favor to any who came to v i s i t h i m , e s p e c i a l l y a n y o n e bringing the latest update about friends who might be far away in the United States helping oth- ers to maintain healthy and pro- ductive lives. Since that was usually my mission, whenever I was pass- ing through Rome on my way to Florence, a stop for a short visit w i t h F a t h e r R o m a n o w a s d e r i g u e u r . U s u a l l y w h a t I believed would be a very short hello and pleasant exchange of information always turned into an afternoon of wonderful con- geniality, punctuated in the late afternoons with special tours of t h e V a t i c a n , i t s g a r d e n s a n d chapels, usually not seen by the public in those days. And thus it was that I was always brought into the Sistine Chapel after the crowds had left and, because Father knew I was a particular student of the career of Michelangelo, he often left me alone in that splendid chapel for some twenty or thirty min- utes at a time, to then lead me into the Pauline Chapel, just on the other side of the wall near the tourist exit, to see the mar- velous frescoes of St. Paul and St. Peter, the last ones created by Michelangelo, more com- monly seen only in books. But one of the more memo- rable trips to Father Romano was when my wife and I were r e c e i v e d b y h i m a n d s h o w n around the gardens that, again, were at that time not open to the c r o w d s . W h i l e t h e r e , F a t h e r excused himself for a few min- utes but then returned with a handful of pine cones. My wife and I were surprised that he would dirty his hands so, but he explained that he wanted us to h a v e a k e e n m e m o r y o f t h e pleasant afternoon we all had together. So, he suggested that my wife put the pine cones, five in all to match the number in our family, in her large bag and take them home to decorate our Christmas table as a novel way for us to enjoy the upcoming holiday in a very spiritual way. He told us that, as a child in Tuscany, the cones were always dusted with confectionary sugar powder and placed in front of each guest of the family as a sort of personal union with the bounty of Nature and God who had blessed the earth with the wondrous pine tree whose cones c a r r i e d t h e p i g n o l i n u t s t h a t would be used to produce all t h o s e f a b u l o u s l y d e l i c i o u s Christmas treats. Of course, we took them. But before we left, he cautioned my wife to be careful not to let any of the Swiss Guards see what she was carrying because one may always give to the Church, but one must be careful never to remove anything of substance from it, and especially not from the Vatican. After making this little joke, he hurried to say his goodbyes to us because, just then a jet plane buzzed above us. This dis- turbed Father greatly, since it was forbidden to fly over the Vatican and he wanted to make sure a report of the incursion would be promptly filed. So, my w i f e a n d I q u i c k l y s a i d o u r goodbyes and made our way to find the stairs that would bring us down to the Santa Anna exit. Several years later, father retired and so when I went to Rome, I had to wait in line, in the rain, to see how the Sistine Chapel had been restored. When I managed to get into the Sistine f i n a l l y , I w o n d e r e d i f a n y among all the many people so furiously taking illegal snap- s h o t s r e a l l y u n d e r s t o o d h o w precious it was to just be there. I supposed they would trea- sure their forbidden pictures when they got home. But per- haps a better way to enjoy them might be had by their sitting around a festive Christmas table decorated with dressed up pine cones that could also be invest- ed with many fond memories of former gracious friends. Just as I do now when the season rolls around: I take out our wonderful gifts and proudly d r e s s t h e m f o r o u r f e s t i v e Christmas table, and then sit m y s e l f d o w n t o e n j o y t h e "snowy pine cone trees" with the family and vividly recall Father and our time with him in the Vatican. "…while there, Father excused himself for a few minutes but then returned with a handful of pine cones" © Wavebreakmedia Ltd | Dreamstime.com The pine cones of Christmas NEWS & FEATURES TOP STORIES PEOPLE EVENTS

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