Day 13: Giving Thanks at the Pulpit

Our second and final Sabbath day in Italy was one to remember. We caused a bit of a buzz after our taxi dropped us off at the Agrigento Branch church building. Okay, maybe we didn't cause the buzz ourselves but we certainly contributed to it. Due to much socializing and visiting, the 10 o'clock meeting didn't start until 10:15. Once again, it was oh so cool to sing hymns in Italian. They just have a special spirit about them. 

Prior to the meeting, the branch president asked Ron and me if we would take a few minutes to address the congregation and bear our testimonies. I went first. It was very moving to stand in front of a group of Italians who I both admired and believed as I did. It also got my blood pumping a little to stand before a bunch of fluent-speaking Italian locals and talk to them in their native language. But it was also exhilarating. I started off by joking a little and saying, "My wife doesn't understand Italian so I guess I can say whatever I want." I spoke of my belief in Jesus Christ and told the congregation how much it meant for me to serve as a missionary in Italy 40 years ago, how much it meant to be back with Ron and with our wives, how much I learned from those missionary experiences and how they helped mold me the person I am today. I also thanked them for their faith, their diligence and their zest for life. 

Ron followed and, of course, spoke much more eloquently. He said when he was a missionary in Palermo, there was no branch in Agrigento. He related how there was only one family there that attended church but to do so, they had to travel 80 miles one way all the way to Palermo. An older woman up front waved her hand, signifying that it was her. Ron praised the branch members for their strength and said they were more like a ward than a branch. He, too, became emotional and said through his tears, "We love the Italian people!" That really got me. It made me tear up as well. 

Our second hour of meetings was also wonderful. Ron and I met with the men where we talked about being peacemakers while Lori and April met in the women's class, where the missionaries translated for them. Afterwards, we exchanged stories, showed pictures, took pictures and laughed and laughed with the Agrigento members. 

We also spoke with the two young male missionaries, one from San Diego and the other from Virginia. Looking at them was almost like looking in a time-traveling mirror back to when Ron and I were baby-faced missionary companions. The missionary from Virginia, named Anziano Roma, said something like, "This is so cool. Elder, this could be us 40 years from now. We could do the same thing." I asked him about his last name. He said his father was from northern Italy and then he showed us a video when he received his mission call. When he announced before family and friends that he was going to Italy, his father gave him kind of a running tackle of joy. Ron and I told each of them to take advantage of being a missionary in Sicily, to cherish their time, work hard and love the people.

We had another busy day ahead of us so we said our goodbyes. It was midday and the country was in shutdown mode. Plus, there were no restaurants or bars nearby for lunch so we settled for a supermarket out back of the church. Even though the lunch meat, carrots, rolls and other finger foods were fine, I felt like I was cheating. Cheating myself, that is. I mean, here we were in Italy, home of the best and most flavorful food in the world, and we were in a grocery story. Sheesh. On the bright side, it was the nicest day yet - definitely a shorts and t-shirt kind of day.

Our next stop was another throwback as we caught a taxi to the Valley of the Temples, a magnificent site but a bit of a misnomer since it sits on a ridge. I'd visited it twice back in the day Once with a different missionary companion and once with Ron. Again, it was so much better to be able to share it with Lori and April. The 3,200-acre archaeological park had electric wheelchairs, which was really nice for Lori. 

The park features seven Greek temples or ruins that date back to the mid-400s BC, highlighted by the Temple of Concordia, named after the Roman goddess of harmony and one of the best preserved Doric style temples in the world. It features 13 columns that run down each side and six on each end that stand on a massive four-step stone base. Each of the columns is 20 feet high, has 20 flutes and tapers at the top. It was converted into a Christian church in the sixth century in honor of the apostles Peter and Paul.

Today, there is protective gating that surrounds the temples and ruins accompanied by "keep out" signage. Back in the early 1980s, well, let's just say you could go anywhere and do anything. That prompted Ron and I to take a truly classic photo (see below) scaling the Temple of Hephaestus, one of the symbols of Sicily, that would probably get us in trouble today. 

Ron (on the right) and me (on the left) in 1983

On this visit, we did not make it back to the Temple of Hephaestus, which was a little bit of a bummer. Why? Well, it would've been nice to see it again, plus perhaps we couldn't follow through on my threat to recreate the original photo (which April said we could NOT do!) In the end, she used her sweet photoshop skills to help us create a different sort of recreation.

Ron (on the right) and me (on the left) in 2023

After dropping off Lori's wheelchair, we cooled off by hitting a small trailer with "La Vera Limone Granita" sprawled across the top of it. Hmm, was this indeed "The True Lemon Granita?" One spoonful screamed, "YES!" This granita was so lemony and so tart that it bit back in a big way. It truly was the best granita of the trip so far.

As we took a taxi back to town to pick up our bags, I was wishing I had more of that granita. No, wait, a barrel of that granita. One little cup just wasn't enough. Oh well, on to the next stop. We boarded a train and enjoyed the countryside as we headed north. 

Scenic Sutera in central Sicily

Palermo is the city where Ron and I each finished our missions. I served there in late 1983 while he followed in 1984. Like most everywhere else we'd visited, Palmero had been cleaned up and was pretty. Our Airbnb was just off Via delle Liberta, a busy pedestrian thoroughfare with shops, restaurants and jammed with people. We had just crossed Sicily (again) so we were h-u-n-g-r-y. I ordered baked pasta timbale with meat sauce, mozzarella, breadcrumbs, oil and salt. And yeah, it was tasty! 

 Lori was feeling pretty good after dinner and it was a beautiful evening so we went on a walk, a long walk! It included checking out a lot of shops, enjoying the atmosphere and, of course, eating another lemon granita. It was good and larger, but not as true as the "true granita" in Agrigento. 

Other than the miniature trulli in Alberobello, I hadn't really bought any souvenirs. That changed in Palermo. Forza gli azzurri! The Blues is the nickname given to the Italian national soccer team, the squad that won the 1982 World Cup just a few weeks (dang it!) before I arrived in Italy as a missionary. The country was still buzzing when I got there. 

We ended up going too far on our post-dinner stroll. Lori pulled or aggravated a muscle in her upper arm or shoulder. And due to stress and/or overcompensation, her foot was really bothering her. In fact, we had to physically help her up the stairs to get into the apartment. We finally got her in bed and I did some late night laundry. The next day would be our finale in Sicily but it included some memorable and even creepy throwback memories.