Pilgrimage to Rome for canonizations a beautiful experience for Wichita woman

By Monica Michaud

The fellowship, friendship, and spirit of adventure I was blessed to find among my fellow pilgrims to the canonizations of Saints Carlo Acutis and Pier Giorgio Frassati and was beautiful and refreshing. 

After arriving, I met other pilgrims on the shuttle from the airport to the hotel. As I sat in the back seat of a passenger van, I found myself in a stimulating conversation with a woman named Elizabeth.

I asked what inspired her to come on this pilgrimage. Not only did I learn that Elizabeth had been on many “errands” for God through numerous pilgrimages, but that she knows “everybody” and is incredibly connected in the most only-God-could-have-done-that kind of ways. 

Elizabeth told me she was there to pick up some relics. When I leaned in for the story, she explained she knew Carlo’s aunt – they met years ago in Medjugorje, had crossed paths since, and stayed in touch – and that the relics were of soon-to-be-Saint Carlo Acutis. She said this pilgrimage worked out well because the Acutis family was planning to stay in the same hotel as us. 

With my jaw nearly on the floor and my head reeling with the reality that we would be sharing our hotel with the Acutis family, I was left in awe of how God works in mysterious ways and didn’t think (or maybe dare) to ask more. 

Our pilgrimage group included Sr. Barbara Maloy, a Carmelite from Boston, with whom I was honored to be paired as a roommate. We were up late visiting on our second night when she mentioned that she’d give anything to meet the family.

“Well, Sister, I might know someone who can help – have you met Elizabeth yet?” I asked.

“No, but you ask her,” Sister replied.

Those who do not ask often do not receive, we reflected, but it was late and we had no idea when Elizabeth was planning to meet Carlo’s aunt, so we left it at that for the night. But the Holy Spirit works in incredible ways. 

The next morning at breakfast, Sister and I found a table with a few fellow pilgrims and one open seat straight in front of me. Sure enough, Elizabeth sat down. 

“Okay, Holy Spirit, if you say so,” I thought.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” I said. “So, have you by chance picked up the relics yet?”

“No, that’s tonight,” she said.

“Is there any chance it might be possible for a couple of extra people to join you? Sister (and I) would really love to come.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Elizabeth said, and we left it at that as we set off on our day trip to Assisi.

While in Assisi we got to take in many amazing places, but our last stop in that city was a visit to St. Maria Maggiore, which houses St. Carlo’s tomb.

Arriving at the church, we were directed around back, where the line wound through the gardens behind the church. 

That’s when, from the corner of my eye, I noticed the bronze statue of St. Carlo at the foot of the cross. I had seen it featured before heading to Italy, so I quickly took the chance to hop out of line quickly for a closer look and fast picture with a few fellow pilgrims. 

Having been blessed to visit St. Carlo’s tomb once before, I knew what to expect – a gorgeous tomb with a window to see St. Carlo inside floating over a rough cut stone in front of a beautiful white marble carved collage of scenes from his life – one of the most lovely tombs I have ever seen. This time, when I turned the corner I first saw a stone lamp illuminating one of St. Carlo’s quotes: “Non io, ma Dio” (Not I, but God). But what I saw next took my breath away and left me in joy and awe-filled tears. Covering the once-empty, rough-cut stone beneath St. Carlo was a thick layer of cards, envelopes, pictures, letters, and every kind of prayer intention for him to carry to Heaven. It was truly so powerful and beautiful, words fail me.

As we were climbing off the bus in Rome that evening with plans of heading to dinner, a fellow pilgrim who had been at the breakfast table that morning – and who also had often assisted Sister – approached, looked me square in the eye with a seriously deep intensity and declared “I need to show you something.” 

It seemed like one of my life’s strangest and most startling requests, which was reflected in what I can only assume was a baffled expression. She nevertheless repeated her request, and so I followed her across the street to our hotel. There she shed some light on things. 

“I had to get you away from the group,” she said. “We’re going to meet the family, and Sister’s already over here!”

Yet again, my jaw hit the floor. The wait proved to be a blur of excitement for our privileged small group. After some timing was ironed out, in walked Carlo’s aunt, Adrienne, who we each were able to greet as we heard her share of some of the work she is currently doing to compare the familial resemblance in the faces on the Shroud of Turin to that of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Her research and book should be coming out later this fall.

We were then blessed to receive and each hold one of the relics of St. Carlo’s hair before thanking Adrienne and finishing our dinner with Carlo now physically present in his own chair at the table.

After Adrienne left, I looked around the table and asked if holding the relics had reminded anyone else of the experience of holding a little baby. One of the priests on our pilgrimage, who also seemed a bit awed, nodded.

The next day during our free time, Sister happened to run into Carlo’s parents and a priest in the otherwise empty lobby and had a lovely conversation with them. It was such a treat to get to share in her joy and wonder that evening as we visited about the adventures of our days.

The entire pilgrimage was filled with beautiful moments with many stories to ponder for years to come. I am so grateful for the way God aligned numerous blessings for me to be able to go and arranged so many blessings while there. It was truly awesome.

Monica Michaud is a parishioner at St. Thomas Aquinas in Wichita.