Early Friday morning I took a chance to fly to Madrid and meet up with friends who came down from Ireland. Our destination was Gredos, to join in a festival in honor of Fr. Tomas Morales. ( Madrid is a beautiful city but I hardly saw it as we caught the train directly to Avila.


Avila is a town I remember well. The last time I was there I was a little girl of six or seven. The walls are still there, massive and imposing, rising out of the rocky hills as though city grew from the ground itself.


We had a few hours to visit the Convent of St. Teresa. It seemed a bleak and barren sort of place! The centuries have simplified the once grand sort of visiting place that St. Teresa knew. It is now a fully functioning convent according to the strict Carmelite Rule. A small section had been set aside as a museum filled with treasures as relics of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross.

The walls are white plaster, the floor-boards worn down where the nuns have walked for the past five hundred years. In the old visiting ‘parlors,’ complete with the original grills, there were a few simple plaques: “This is where St Teresa and St John levitated in ecstasy” or another that read: “This is where St. Teresa saw a vision Christ at the Pillar”. The spiritual reality of the events that transpired within those quiet walls has not dimmed with time.

The Spaniards are not without a sense of humor, however, especially the holy ones. The little museum held an unusual statue of St. Joseph. It was too dark for a good photograph (he is holding Baby Jesus), but you get the idea:


He is known as “St. Joseph the Tattle-tale” because he would be placed in St. Teresa’s chair in her absence and tell her all that had transpired while she was away. Quite original, I think!

We saw El Escorial from the train, and I insert a photo from the internet since my camera was not working:


This is not far from Valle de los Caidos, the “Valley of the Fallen” A reminder of those who died for the faith and those who still need our prayers. In a few weeks, Pope Francis will beautify 522 more Spanish martyrs.


Gredos was a little town ~ but not to worry, it wasn’t the least bit sleepy. When the ‘whole town’ turned out for a festival, all 500 guests showed up. The mayor cooked up dinner. He also serves as the post-master, local bar-tender, guest-house facilitator, and evidently, the town chef. He actually built a sort of cook-house with an enormous frying pan suspended over a fire for just such occasions. Pealla is the obvious choice for a ‘big crowd’ for dinner. It took a moment for an adventurous American to get used to shrimp staring back at her from a steaming plate of rice. Yum!


And now, friends, the fun is back in the books!

Grace and peace,