bursting

so my heart is bursting. 

i just met my Austrian grandmother for the first time. 

her name is Maria. 

the truth is, I adopted her in January. 

the majority of the time, especially in the beginning of my time here, Alina and I would go to Stephansdom for mass and adoration, or at least for adoration because it is the most convenient place with a separate adoration chapel open from 8am till 10pm. every time that I go into Stephansdom, no matter how long or short, I always visit my favorite little alcove and say hi to one of my best friends...St. Therese...or at least a large portrait of her. 

When you regularly visit a place that is everyday swarming with tourists and people you are seeing for the first time and probably will never see again, you tend to notice the reoccurring faces. Her's was one of them. She was always perched on the very end of the single bench in St. Therese's alcove, always beautifully dressed and her hair swept back, always very proper with her gloves (whether winter or summer) resting on her lap under one hand, and the other resting on her cane. 

After seeing her once or twice I started to smile, nod my head as if to say hi, or outright wave (so American). After seeing her the 10th time I knew I needed to meet her. After the 20th or the 30th time, my heart just wanted to sit right down next to her and hold her hand. 

Today was probably the 78th time. And today, I spoke to her. 

I know...it seems odd to make such a big deal about it. Yet, you must know something about German...like most foreign languages there is a personal "you" and a formal "you". For some reason I just can't get the formal "you" down. You can imagine what fear this instills in you when you are approaching someone like a Cardinal, or even an elderly, very proper frau and are not sure whether you will downright insult them with the first words out of your mouth (yes...i'm speaking from experience...lets just say there are several old frauen in this city that will no longer speak to me...the men are always a little nicer if you just smile and say you're sorry). 

But today, this little impulse welling up inside of me just had to be acted upon. I finished my rosary beside her, took a deep breath, picked up my purse rethinking the impulse, and then turned around and squatted (ps. i hate that word) at her feet. 

Since it was definitely the Holy Spirit nudging me to do it...I blamed it on him. "Gruß Gott! I just wanted to say that I say a prayer for you everyday...but I don't know your name. What is your name?" (its the most I could do...please...count how many times I had to say the word "you"...i couldn't come up with anything more eloquent under so much pressure) 

She took my hand...so tight...with both of her hands. And told me her name was Maria. Yes, thats right, my adopted grandmother has the same name as me. 

 She smiled the most gorgeous 70-something year old grandmother smile and said, "Alles lieb kleine madchen! Alles Gut! Wir sehen uns morgan!"

(All love, little girl. All good. We will see each other tomorrow)

She said she doesn't come to Stephansdom everyday (completely understandable considering every time I see her..she is usually there for at the least an hour without moving from her usual spot next to Therese). And tomorrow she would actually not be there (good thing I asked) because she would be having a visit from her sister and some other family (you can imagine how much I was anxiously sweating at how long this conversation turned out to be and how many times I had to use "you"). 

So she took my hand even tighter and once again said, "Alles lieb. Bis nachste mal, bald. Alles lieb."

Then I wasn't sure she was going to let my hand go. But no she isn't a "kleine madchen" snatcher. She is my adopted Viennese grandmother (does she even come from Vienna? I don't know yet) and today I learned her name.