St. Gervasius and St. Protasius (2nd century)

   Twice, in the past five years, while I was beachcombing on Block Island, Rhode Island, I found a stone rare to Rhode Island called amazonite. Its color varies, but my pieces are light turquoise with delicate white stripes.
  Yesterday, I once again walking along a beach on Block Island and I thought I would find another piece of amazonite, since that would make three pieces, although I wasn't sure when. Then, 10 minutes later, my intuition set in and I knew I'd find more amazonite before our walk was finished.
  Amazonite is believed to inspire confidence and hope, align astral bodies, make marriages happy (is it going to waste on a single gal like me?), and calm the mind. If you sleep with a piece of it under your pillow, the clarity of your dreams will be incredible.
  A couple of hours later, I found two chunks of amazonite: a vivid turquoise and a greenish-yellow. They always appear to me in technicolor which makes me certain I'm one of the few people who can spot it among millions of other stones.
  Amazonite can be found in Colorado, Russia, and Canada. It is also mined in Baveno, Italy, close to the Swiss border. Baveno is also known for its famous red granite quarries which were used to make the spectacular columns at Duomo di Milano (Milan Cathedral).
  The city's patron saints are twin brothers, Gervasius and Protasius. They were born in Milan, Italy in the 2nd century.
  According to legend, their parents were Sts. Vitalis and Valeria. During the reign of Emperor Nero, St. Gervasius and St. Protasius met their fate. They were scourged and beheaded. Their feast day is June. 19.

St. Lawrence of Brindisi (July 22, 1559 to July 22, 1619)

  "God is love and all his operations proceed from love."                                                                          (St. Lawrence of Brindisi)

   I've always found my "adrenaline high" by travelling to faraway places and most times I do it alone. I discovered early on that's the best way do things, since most people will say that they can't come along because they don't have the time or money.
  My words of advice are to take on any adventures that come your way. Do it when all is good in your life. Don't wait until you're divorced or find yourself in a state of boredom.
   That's why as I write this today, I can say I took the train to Brindisi, Italy (the heel of the boot) on the Adriatic coast, the last stop before the ferry to Greece.
  The city's patron saint is St. Lawrence of Brindisi who was born Julius Caesar Rossi on July 22, 1559. By the time he was 12-years-old, his parents had died. So, he was sent to Venice to live with his uncle and be educated at the College of St. Mark.
   St. Lawrence of Brindisi joined the Capuchin Friars in 1575. He graduated from the University of Padua and was ordained a priest at age 23.
  He spoke numerous languages including Italian, French, German, Latin, Greek, Spanish, and Hebrew which allowed him to communicate with all types of people, translate the Bible in its original form, and convert Jews and Protestants.
  In 1601, St. Lawrence of Brindisi became the Chaplain of the Army of the Holy Roman Empire. And although he was a highly educated, brilliant person, he cared about the needs of the common man.
  He died on his sixtieth birthday in 1619 in Lisbon, Portugal and is buried in Villafranca at the Cemetery of the Poor Clares.
  St. Lawrence of Brindisi was named an Apostolic Doctor of the Church in 1959 and his feast day is July 21.

St. Patricia (? to c.665)

I was picking flowers this morning in the backyard of the home I rent for the summer and discovered a pathway which lead to a hidden raspberry grove. The sun-ripened fruit was everywhere, so I ran back into the house and grabbed a huge plastic container which I filled in less than 20 minutes.
I didn't mind being scratched by the prickly leaves or having the scorching sun beat down on me. It was like finding treasure: sweet, delicious jewels. And I was reminded of my childhood being four-years-old in my great-grandmother's garden.
Her name was Crescenza (Clara for short) and she had the most remarkable fruit trees that grew in North Providence soil. It was hardly the climate that would produce plump Italian plums and juicy peaches, but my great-grandmother knew how to do it.
One day when we on our way to her house, I asked my mother, if the reason that I didn't always understand what my great-grandmother was saying was because she was old.
My mother explained to me that she was speaking in Italian. She was born in Castelpizzuto, Abruzzo, Italy in 1885. My great-grandfather, Vincenzo, came to the United States first, then my great-grandmother followed with their four children including my grandfather, Anthony.
They left from Naples and the story goes that a man stole her handbag and she chased him down the street and grabbed it back before getting on the ship.
We visited her every week and when we got in the car to go home my mother would cry and say that it might be the last time we'd see her. This went on for years.
My great-grandmother lived to be 89-years-old.
When she couldn't go to church any more, she'd watch Mass on television.
I asked my parents if I could watch it on television, too, and they told me "no," that it wouldn't count (whatever that meant).
I was told that when my great-grandmother was young, long before beauty products were easy to come by, she created her own eye makeup and rouge with flowers. Her skin, which she washed with Pond's cold cream, was flawless. And she even colored her hair well into her eighties.
And she was funny, too. She was very religious, but also believed in spirits and she'd say that my great-grandfather, Vincenzo, kept her up all night. But, Vincenzo died in 1944. I guess she felt he was in the house opening doors or cupboards and walking around.
When she died on Feb. 12, 1974, my dad picked me up from school that day and said that my mother was very sad and that I had to be quiet when I got home.
I remember like it was only yesterday. She was strong and determined, and if it weren't for her, my grandfather may never have come to this country.
St. Patricia (St. Patrizia) was shipwrecked on the very shores that my great-grandmother left Naples from. She was born in Constantinople of noble birth. When her parents arranged for her marriage, St. Patricia took off to Rome and became a nun.
Upon her father's death, she returned to Constantinople. Then, she set out on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. St. Patricia ended up shipwrecked on the coast of Naples and lived in a hermitage on the island Castel dell'Ovo.
She died a virgin and martyr c.665. Her relics are in gold, jeweled urn in San Gregorio Armeno Monastery in Naples. It is said that every Tuesday morning and on her feast day, Aug. 25, a vial of her blood liquefies.
St. Patricia is a patron saint of Naples.

St. Martina of Rome (? to c.228)

"Be sure to throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain," so many people told me when they knew I was going to Rome, Italy.
Always having a mind of my own, I've never liked to be told what to do. So, I have never thrown a coin in the Trevi Fountain, and miraculously, I've been to the Eternal City three times. Everyone I know who's thrown a coin in has never returned.
My first time to Rome, I arrived by train in the middle of the night. I had my face pressed against the window as we pulled up at Roma Termini, yet the city was lit up and alive with music, food, and dance. I was whisked away in a taxi to my hotel. And, when I awoke the next morning, I was in heaven.
Gelato with breakfast, gelato with lunch, gelato with dinner.
I was told that Firenze (Florence) was much nicer and to go there. But, I wanted to see Rome. My dad who was stationed at Bentwaters Air Force Base near Ipswich, England for three years, said the best time he had in the service, was the weekend he went to Rome. His name was chosen in a lottery and the then 20-year-old and some friends took a whirlwind tour of the city.
To this day, along with neighboring Assisi, it's my favorite European city. One of its patrons is St. Martina, who was martyred under Pope Urban I. She was orphaned at an early age then tortured and beheaded for her faith c.228.
In 1634, St. Martina's relics were found near Mamertine prison at the Roman Forum. Her feast day is January 30 and the church in her honor is Santi Luca e Martina in Rome.

Holy Thursday (The Last Supper)

"Do this in memory of me." (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)

Without thinking twice, I hopped the train from Geneva, Switzerland to Milan, Italy. It's not every day you get to see what I consider to be the world's most famous fresco painting. It was my first trip to Europe and who knew that I'd go back twice more, but I couldn't take a chance. What's an eight-hour round-trip train ride to Milan (where I had been earlier that week), the day before I was to fly out of Geneva to return to the United States?
It was long before the 15-minute viewing rule or needing a ticket to see it. And, it was yet another time when the locals had no idea what I was saying.
"The Last Supper," I repeated to each passerby who would shake their heads back and forth in bewilderment.
I would have saved myself 20 minutes (I never use a guide book and love spontaneity) had I thought of it earlier.
"Leonardo da Vinci," I said and like magic I heard the words "L'Ultima Cena" and "Il Cenacolo."
It was down some side street in the middle of nowhere in a residential area. I still marvel at the tiny building and the magnitude of what was inside.
An old woman took me to a room, pointed to the wall (there was scaffolding up due to renovations of the fresco), and left me to enjoy it alone.
Maybe I was there an hour. Maybe two. It was in full view and when I look back now, it seems like a dream. I was standing in the refectory at Santa Maria delle Grazie church where the monks used to dine.
Da Vinci painted the exact moment that Jesus said to his disciples "One of you will betray me."
I bought a poster and a book on the history of the fresco, which I still have, and every Holy Thursday, no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I stop for a moment to reflect on "L'Ultima Cena."

St. Mark the Apostle (1st century AD to April 25, 68)

One of the most exciting times in Italy for me was when I arrived in Piazza di San Marco in Venice, Italy to see Basilica di San Marco.
It was built around 829 as a temporary place to hold the relics of St. Mark the Apostle (also called the Evangelist). The basilica in its present form was built in 1063 and consecrated in 1094.
St. Mark the Apostle was born in the 1st century AD in Judea and is the author of the second Gospel in the New Testament. St. Mark's writings focused on the ministry of Jesus from his baptism to the Resurrection and, most importantly, the last two weeks of his life.
St. Mark died on April 25, 68 in Alexandria, Egypt. Around 829, two Venetian merchants took his relics from Alexandria to Venice. They covered them in pork to prevent Muslims from stealing them. To this day, the relics are in Basilica di San Marco. St. Mark's feast day is April 25.

St. Bona of Pisa (1156 to 1207)

"I'm looking for the Leaning Tower of Pisa," I said to numerous locals outside the train station. No one knew what I meant.
Maybe, if I started walking around, I might spot it in the distance but in Italy, it's different. Some of the most famous structures are situated on side streets or in nooks where you'd never think to look.
Then, it hit me. If I tilted my body to one side when I asked my question, someone might get it. Sure enough.
"Torre pendente di Pisa," said the elderly man shaking his head in recognition.
Thank God I waited for directions. The Leaning Tower of Pisa was nowhere near the train station. It was on the other side of the city.
Forty five minutes later, there it was, in the Field of Miracles (Campo dei Miracoli). An image that appears so frequently on takeout pizza boxes in the United States.
I was glad I took my cousin Freddie's advice early that morning at the kitchen table of his apartment in Santa Margherita Ligure when he said, "Sometimes, Sis, you have to do touristy things. You've got to see it."
Despite what one might think, there was so much more to the medieval city than its famous bell tower. I stayed a couple of nights and got to spend time at the university (founded in 1343), have dinners in the piazza, enjoy music, and learn about St. Bona of Pisa, it's patron saint.
She was born in 1156 and early on became known as a mystic. She had frequent visions of the Blessed Mother, Jesus, and many saints surrounded in light. I know the feeling having seen an apparition of the Infant Jesus of Prague with a red glow around it.
James the Greater, one of the Twelve Apostles, was a popular vision of St. Bona of Pisa. And, he calmed her fears. By age 10, she devoted her life to the Augustian tertiary.
In her lifetime, she encountered many adventures travelling to Jerusalem, being captured by Muslim pirates on her way home, and leading 10 pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela in Spain which is dedicated to St. James the Greater.
St. Bona of Pisa died in 1207 and her remains are on display at the Church of San Martino in Pisa. Her feast day is May 29. She is the patron saint of travellers, flight attendants, and Pisa.