Each winter, Sophomores at Thomas More College depart for a semester abroad in Rome. Months are spent exploring the seemingly endless treasures of la Città Eterna, but the opportunities don’t end at the borders of the ancient city—students take advantage of long weekends throughout the semester to discover other European treasures. One year later, four members of the class of 2025 share their experiences of traveling abroad.
As a native German, I was grateful for the opportunity to introduce my classmates to the country of my birth. During the Rome semester, I invited a few of them to spend spring break with my extended family in Germany. I knew that I should introduce my friends to Kevelaer—the site of a Marian apparition I often visited as a child. Seeing it again renewed and revitalized childhood memories, putting me back in touch with the charm and piety of an old, Catholic Germany. The town has several churches built in a highly decorated German Gothic style. The rest of the town is quiet, filled with little restaurants, cafés, and shops selling traditional woodcrafts, artwork, and clothing. To close the visit, I took my friends to the outdoor Stations of the Cross—life-size stone statues built in shrines winding up a hill that leads to a graveyard. Since it was Lent, we thought it fitting to end by praying the Stations. Though we visited other wonderful places on that trip, humble little Kevelaer remained our favorite.
Ever since I was a child, Kevelaer—and Germany in general—has always been personally important to me. Through my trip, I was able to discover that what makes a place like Kevelaer worth loving and visiting goes beyond personal interest. There are still places in our postmodern world that have not forgotten the piety of their ancestors—that allow the spirituality of a place and a people to shine through. They are universal in their appeal because they are beautiful, good, and holy. They are Catholic in the truest sense.
–Marie Vyleta ’25
During my semester abroad, I had the opportunity to travel to County Meath, Ireland, where I walked through the idyllic Irish countryside to the beautiful Silverstream Priory—a small, peaceful, holy place, set apart from the world. I was pleasantly surprised by the perpetual Adoration that the monks at Silverstream dutifully keep. I joined them in praying the hours, bought a Monastic Diurnal, and began to brush up on my liturgical prayer. There was an insurmountable sense of peace in that simple, holy place. I explored its vast lands, with its green fields and grazing cows and sheep. One day, as I prayed the Rosary by their cow pond, I slipped in waist-deep and got drenched. The monks were quick to show me the dryer, making wisecracks about “enjoying their luxurious swimming facilities.”
I joined the monks for meals, during which a monk read from the prison journal of Cardinal Pell. As it was a Friday in Lent, I naturally expected an austere fast. I brought great shame to my Irish stock, for I had forgotten that this Friday was St. Patrick’s Day. The monks were keen on fully honoring the patron saint of Ireland, so as I ate my corned beef and cabbage, the monks blessed me with a pint of Guinness. After Vespers, the monks sang for me in honor of my onomastico.
When my time with the monks had ended, I felt thankful to God for the opportunity to share the lives of some of His most devoted servants.
–Patrick Nagle ’25
Long weekends are, without a doubt, one of the most appealing features of Thomas More College’s Rome semester. The three-day break from classes every Friday to Sunday provides frequent opportunities for trips around Italy and abroad. One of my classmates proposed a weekend trip to the island of Malta for the men of our class. The airfare and lodging were incredibly affordable, so the offer was irresistible.
This trip was the backdrop for some of my richest experiences of natural and artistic beauty, fraternity, and adventure. The perfect blue of the Mediterranean, the rugged coastline, and the rocky Maltese countryside set the scene. My classmates and I explored nature and civilization, wandering around the little cities, valleys, and hills that cover the face of this tiny island nation. From the baroque grandeur of the churches in the city of Valletta to the majesty of the bluffs overhanging the sea, the island’s beauty was enthralling. The bonds of friendship in our group were strengthened by the experiences we shared in Malta. We cooked, ate, talked, hiked, traveled, and prayed together in a land that was new and foreign to each one. The nine of us were united in escapades thousands of miles away from our homes. We hiked craggy coastlines in the pouring rain; we climbed steep hills saying the Rosary; we sat on ancient, deserted ruins and watched the sun set over the Mediterranean Sea.
I am certain that vivid memories of this trip will remain with me into old age.
–Liam Beecher ’25
Sometimes we forget that the world is God’s masterpiece—or, rather, we take for granted the world’s natural beauty and forget what a gift it is. My visit to Ireland during our semester abroad was a wonderful reminder of this gift. From the rolling green hills, to the castles and towers dotting hillsides, to the breathtaking Cliffs of Moher, I was won over by the richness of Ireland’s natural beauty. Of the many places my classmates and I visited, one of the most beautiful was the Rock of Cashel. St. Patrick’s Rock, as it is also called, sits atop a rocky hill, surrounded by valleys and rolling landscapes. A great Gothic cathedral rises majestically from the center, amidst smaller ruins and a graveyard. Down in the valley, nestled in the shadow of the cathedral, rests the remains of a thirteenth-century Benedictine abbey.
It was cold, rainy, and dark when we first arrived. A somber mood hung over us as we wandered around, reading the inscriptions on the many gravestones. As we descended to the old abbey, the sun finally revealed itself, transforming the land around us. The fields were a green that didn’t feel real, and the sunlight was warm and inviting as it shone over the ruins. The silent stones—steeped in history, resting on the hilltop surrounded by green fields—created a beautiful scene that took my breath away. Here and there wound some roads, but for the most part, the peace of the Irish countryside remained unbroken. I remember never wanting to leave. I wanted to sit on that hill and take in the beautiful masterpiece with which the Lord Almighty had blessed us.
–Kateri Davis ’25
For further reading:
The Building Blocks of Critical Thinking: An Interview with Micah O’Leary Kurtz CFP® ’11
