I'm not even sure where to start. I actually don't have much time to figure out since the internet access here is timed. But, we're in a small, beeyootiful little town outside of Milan called Stresa. We arrived late last night (after sitting for 2 hours on the plane while all flights in Tel Aviv were grounded (they said radio problems, but I've seen too many movies to believe that--I'm sure something big, probably related to state security and international cartels was going down. Like in James Bond)). This day was just a breather in between flights, mostly for Amia, partly for us. We're loving it. After the madness and hugeness of Rome, and the overwhelming power of pilgrimage, it's nice to just sit and decide, Hmmm...gelatto now or later? Amia is sure glad for the change. She did, again, AMAZING, during pilgrimage. It was only during the last day or two when she, and another little boy in our group, reached the end of their rope.
I was thinking about it from her perspective and it must have seemed so wierd. We're in these big beautiful buildings, many of which are associated, or have things associated, with the Founders of the Baha'i Faith, like the bed Baha'u'llah used to use or the bench He used to sit on, and they look SO inviting. But you can't use any of it. I was constantly saying, Sweetie, you can't jump on that bed, or, Amia, don't touch that chair. She just looked confused a lot of the time. But the key, we've found, is a well time visit to a rain puddle/body of water/ice cream shop to smooth out any wrinkles and she's good again.
So, I'm about to get kicked off, but we'll be home tomorrow and I'm sure we'll both be blogging and posting pictures. Although, I don't think we have any pics of one of the most amazing nights of my life that took place on my birthday. Shoot.