Walking down the Vittorio Veneto Viale in a small town of Southern Italy called Civitanova, I had a quiet moment that required a deep, enhaled breath…
A reality check to myself.
A reminded in that moment that I am not walking these streets as a tourist amongst strangers in a strange land, but rather as a woman experiencing the world as her home. #BlessingsOnBlessongsOnBlessings
With each new country I visit, I gain new friends who share with me their town.
Their city…
Their country…
Their HOME.
With ME.
And because of these kindnesses, I gain a deeper appreciation for the very things that become the pride of a country.
My experiences are unique with dinners at places not found in the travel books. Driving side and back roads most tour guides won’t venture. Having discussions with the craftspeople, the politicos, the makers and founders who themselves and their generations before them have been the authors of their country’s greatest stories.
Experiencing the heart of what one loves about their respective country becomes the gift I receive for listening. For caring. For desiring to know more.
It is this that makes a people passionate.
It is this that becomes the source of pride for being whatever they claim as their nationality.
And why so often one will defend it to the end.
And is are these kind of people who want to share it all with us, visitors that become family!
It is ss if to say, take THIS back to your America and let ‘your people’ know our stories to pass the legacy of what makes ‘us’ great.
Each moment of each day I am inspired to have more of this.
ALL of this 
Yes. Please. Thank you.