Uphill, one mile. Heels, three inches.
Where do you think we are? If you answered, “Procession for Madonna” you are right. On Saturday evening, I joined two of my group mates and our interpreter, Luca and walked through my first procession.
I was worried we had come all this way for nothing. The droplets gathered on the windshield as we headed in the general direction of the procession. When we arrived, we grabbed umbrellas, and Luca put on a sweater. Surprisingly the warmth was needed on this June evening. However, within minutes, we were grabbing sunglasses and shedding clothing. Once the painting emerged, the clouds disappeared and the sun shown.
Mary “Del Giro”
The Italians ranged from the very aged to the very young. Children dressed as angels marched along with the band, church officials, police, and the faithful following the painting of Madonna “Del Giro”. About 300 people attended this ceremony of transferring the paining from one church in Orsaiola to Chiesa di San Nicola.
The painting travels from church to church. When moved, it is carried by four men. On this occasion, the painting was loaded up in a decorated truck to transfer it to the starting point. At first I was disappointed to see it loaded, but soon I was singing praises above because if not for this, the march would have gone all night.
The faithfull followers.
As we climbed the hill, the priests chanted prayers for people who responded while the band took turns playing an upbeat song. Listen here at www.notesofpassionatetraveler.blogspot.com under the heading “Band and angels” below entry “Sunday, July 19″.
As the march winded up the hill, the bells encouraged us to keep coming. We arrived at the top and celebrated mass outdoors. During mass, some of the angels grew displeased and left the stage for better places found among parents or friends. At the end of a lengthy mass, sandwiches and wine were given to the crowd. Raffle tickets were sold and prizes awarded. It was a grand evening for the small community that I came to know on the winding road of faithfulness that greeted us.
Our march uphill set to the beat of their play.
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This blog pulled us in, inviting us to walk the procession with you. Of course, I am curious about the origin of this tradition and how it may have changed over the years.