Sint-Trudokerk

I forgot to share a little story about St. Trudo. The church is in the centrum, or center, of Peer. You walk by it on the way to the market, the pizza parlor, a little coffee shop... well, you get the idea. You can't miss it. Each hour, we listen to the bells ringing out lovely tunes to announce the time. It's a big part of the town, so of course, you can't help but be a little curious about it. I often admire the stained glass windows and beautiful stonework on my daily treks. I can just imagine the amazing detailed work inside the church, but the doors are closed, and I pass quietly by. I am told that they open the church for public tours throughout the month of May, and you can climb the spiraling stairway to the top of the belfry. Of course, we moved here the first of June, so I have a year to wait. I am not good at waiting. While walking with the family and friends one sunny Saturday last month, I glanced at the church and noticed...the doors were open! Is this a sign? I can't resist, and tell the gang that I am jumping at the chance to investigate. I quietly enter, with the others reluctantly trailing behind, and am amazed. It's better than I had imagined. The hand carved woodwork, beams overhead that are hundreds of years old, amazing stained glass windows. It's almost too much to take in. From the front of the church, a tiny little form emerged, dressed in traditional black and white. (Flashback to the Sound Of music- I LOVE that movie!.) The nun was maybe 4 1/2 feet tall and weighed less than my purse. She looked like someones tiny little Grandma. She was adorable. She came down the aisle toward us, grinning widely and arms outstretched like she was going to give us one big hug. I asked her if she spoke any English, and she put her hand on my shoulder and nodded, still smiling. She pointed at something, so I headed that way. Still nodding and smiling, she herded our little group through the church, out the door and into the bright sunlight, as pretty as you please. As the huge wooded doors closed politely (but firmly) behind us, reality hit home. Darn. We were just tossed out of a church. In Belgium. By a tiny little nun. That's something you can't say every day!