This morning, I ventured to the big church in the middle of Motala. The sound of the ringing bells echoed all throughout town and I easily found my way to the doors of the beautiful, historic building. I entered, grabbed a small red hymnal from the stack sitting on a bench and found my way to a wooden pew.
A traditional hymn played on the organ as a small number of parishioners filed in and quieted down in their spots. The stained-glass windows and the large chandeliers gave off a very 'European' feeling- and, as I took in the scene, I admit that tears filled my eyes. I had longed to be in a place of worship since I left home and it felt good to sit and reflect on how blessed I really am.
The service was entirely in Swedish- and that was fine. I wasn't there to necessarily hear a sermon, but to participate in something bigger than myself. In the entire building, there were only about 20 attendees, so it was a more intimate service than with a larger congregation. An hour passed, I thanked the priest for his message, and went back home to be with Sofia and Kristoffer.
Sofia's dad showed up shortly after I'd come home and invited us to go pick blueberries at the cottage where my great-grandmother grew up. I absolutely love to harvest things (especially berries) so I jumped at the opportunity to go pick some delicious fruit. The three of us picked for almost two hours, chatting about politics, music, and anything else that came to mind. Once we'd filled our containers, we headed inside the cottage where Sofia's aunt made us fresh coffee and offered us some tasty miniature cinnamon rolls.
I haven't done much art today and that's ok. Tomorrow and the rest of the week offers plenty of chances to paint, draw, sketch, and jump back into the hustle and bustle of 'Vivian's Artistic Adventures'- today, however, I am happy to sit and enjoy a Sunday in Sweden.
Pictures Courtesy of Sofia Saleteg:
Blueberries and Raspberries Galore
Overlooking the Lake Near The Cottage
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