Italy: Unholy Art Thou... Again

On our last day in Rome, we visited a cathedral close to our hotel. Again, as we entered the church, an officer at the door shook his head and motioned to my outfit. Sigh.

I did not doubt that Italy would rejoice in my departure. 

Fortunately, this cathedral provided a basket of free scarves for those improperly dressed... like me. I grabbed a couple of scarves and instinctively wrapped them around me.  Been there, done that.

We toured the cathedral with Ben always a couple of steps ahead of me.  I had wrapped the white, gauzy scarf tightly around my legs, which left little legroom to walk.  I shuffled from painting to painting and kept my hands in a prayer position to keep the top scarf from sliding down my shoulders.

I not only looked holy, but felt holy.

I quickly shuffled behind Ben and happened to look up as we passed a large group of nuns.  As I passed the last nun, she slowed her pace and carefully examined me. I slowed, too, bowed slightly and met her gaze. We studied each other for a minute and then both nodded.

It was as if we acknowledged each other's holiness, accepted one another as sisters. We shared a moment. She considered me nun material.

I then realized I just may have missed my calling.  

Can't get any holier than this.

Inside the cathedral.

Ben by the alter.