A glimpse of blue sky, a wisp of clouds, birds, cathedral and concrete buildings is what I see in painting along the hallway wall of Malta’s airport. Looking at the mural makes me want to run outside and feel that … Continue reading →
Please note that this is a scary story of my pilgrimage to Garabandal.One has to be social when on a pilgrimage. I saw a woman sitting in the garden from the bedroom window where I was staying for the … Continue reading →
Stars & Bucks Cafe is better than Starbucks because there is no Starbucks in Bethlehem. Coffee Palestinian style. Free Wi-Fi. They also offer juice, ice cream, desserts and much more. Also, they sell their own “You Are Here …” mug. … Continue reading →
Studying in public school, our creed has no bearings. We are unified as human beings in singing daily our national anthem out in the courtyard, rain or shine before we start our regiment of learning academics. Religion is not a … Continue reading →
Twenty years ago, I made the first journey to Assisi on my own. I was young, healthy and carefree imitating the life of St. Francis, poor in spirit. Alone I was, I met a lot of strangers along the road. … Continue reading →
In the Jewish tradition, Passover is a holy celebration that coincides with Christian’s Good Friday, Looking at the wall that surrounds Bethlehem, I doubt that anybody can pass over it. As the old saying goes, this too shall pass. … Continue reading →
What stories do we tell ourselves when we look at photos we’ve taken on our journey? Sometimes it’s hard to convey to listeners unless they have been there or know the history of the place. Do I start from the … Continue reading →
Copenhell is a kind of hell that most people would like to stay. Hot-hot-hot. Heat wave in May. Sweat pouring out of skin. Earth is steaming. Even the air will burn your skin. One just have to cover up for … Continue reading →
Maybe if I call myself a traveler, it would be more acceptable. But I am not a traveler. I travel because of pilgrimage. On a pilgrimage, we call ourselves pilgrims. As a pilgrim, I go because someone asked me because … Continue reading →
“Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” ~ Rumi Dawn of a new day On top of Mt. Sinai. Half light, half dark The light made it … Continue reading →
We want to know. All we wanted to know but were afraid to ask. All we really needed to learn we learned in kindergarten… or college… or life. We want to know who loves us. We want to know who … Continue reading →
My feet carry me in different parts of the world to understand the divinity of Mother Earth. I am grateful what Mother Earth provides beneath our feet. Along the way, we encounter a bridge and calm water that create a perfect … Continue reading →
“I live in my dreams. Other people live in dreams too … just not their own.” — Hermann Hesse Dreams not fantasy. Start small. Series of small dreams. Put them all together. Together, the series of small dreams become big. Dreams are … Continue reading →
The annual pilgrimage to Lejac is almost here, from July 5 to 7, to honor an Aboriginal woman who has inspired many due to her simplicity of life and faith.
Rose Prince was born on Saturday, August 21, 1915, in a small house on a hill in the Carrier Nak’azdli First Nation and behind the convent near Fort James. Rose was a Dakelh woman who has inspired an ongoing Catholic pilgrimage. Prince was born in Fort St. James in 1915, the third of Jean-Marie and Agathe Prince’s nine children. Jean-Marie came from the lineage of the great chief Kwah.When the Lejac Residential School was built in 1922, Prince was sent to this school along with the other children. At 16, still attending school at Lejac, her mother and two youngest sisters died in an influenza outbreak. Devastated, she opted not to return home for the summers, staying on at the school instead. She was a quiet and unassuming student. She was a gifted and attentive student, a child of deep faith and outstanding love for God.After graduation, she remained at the school, completing chores such as mending, cleaning, embroidering, and sewing. Prince contracted tuberculosis at the age of 34. She died on 19 August 1949.Two years later, in 1951, several graves west of the Lejac Residential School were relocated to a larger nearby cemetery because a railway passage has to be constructed. During the transfer, Prince’s casket broke open, and workers were apparently astonished to find Prince’s body and clothing in pristine condition, despite the years that had passed since her death. Other bodies were examined, but even those who had died after Prince showed signs of decay.Witnesses said her body was still fresh, and “as if she was sleeping,” with “just a little smile on her face.” The bouquet of flowers on her chest was withered, but some observers maintained that a fresh rose lay in her hands. Others did not see the rose, which was said that the rose may have been a spiritual vision seen only by some. Although all of them agreed that the entire body and the clothing were in a state of perfect preservation. The story spread, especially in the Carrier Nation.Miraculous happenings attributed to her through visiting her grave and taking earth from her grave.Every year, my family joins the pilgrimage to bring roses to cover her grave and pay respect. Every year, I missed it due to work obligation.
Rose Prince Grave
I must say, I am proud for the Aboriginals to have an outstanding woman from their nation.
“Heavenly Father, you shared so deeply with Rose Prince, of the Carrier Nation, your gift of serenity, and shared with her your love for your creation. Grant through her intercession that we may share your serenity and your peace of soul, and may we too rejoice in the beauty of creation that surrounds us on every side.”