One of the monasteries serves as a convent. This one was bursting with floral pots spilling over with dazzling colored blooms. It was smaller and had a more intimate feeling inside. It’s walls adorned with art.
We found ourselves basking in a room filled with paintings. And one in particular stopped us for a long time, where we stood in front of it and admired it. A nun came over, seeing our interest, and told us about it. Seeing our sincere interest, she was eager to answer questions. Our questions kept coming and a smile began to spread across her face, it was simultaneously reverent and devilish as she realized we were so deeply interested in the spectacular painting lodged on the wall. She gently motioned for us to draw in closer, as if to huddle in together for a secret. She then reached into her pocket and out came the oldest looking key I have ever seen. She whispered to us to follow her. When a nun tells you to follow her, that’s exactly what you do.
She unlocked a small door and motioned for us to follow her inside a private chapel. Its walls illuminated with colors and flashes of gold. She smiled and told us that the artist that painted the artwork we had been admiring was the same artist painting the walls of the little chapel. She told us that most days, he makes the long journey up to the monastery to paint murals on the wall of this tucked away little chapel. She showed us his work and the sketches he drawn on the wall where he was about to paint next. We took in the whole room as she explained the meaning of each of the paintings. Her eyes glistened with all the color in the room as she did so.
There, in that tiny little chapel, we stood transfixed. Wrapped in color and beauty and her delight in sharing her love for God with us.
