I think those of us Americans who have lived most of our years in relative peace have no idea what it's like to wake up every morning to the alarm of bomb blasts. During our recent trip through Central Europe, most histories and legends of the landmarks were situated in war or oppression. Yet the irony is that during these dark days, some of the finest music, art, and architecture (and other treasures of society, like beer) were created. Within just a few days, we saw the home where Franz Liszt performed his first concert at the age of 9 and also the home of Oskar Schlindler who played a prominent role in rescuing victims of the Nazi genocide during WW2. We marveled at the beauty and grace of the Lipizzaner Stallions and grieved at the scars from the Turkish Wars, World Wars and others. 

       Certainly the light that shone through the darkness of war was the yearning for beauty, truth, and goodness. Such light can be found up and down the Danube. As Claudio Magris, author of Danube writes, "The ornamental pomp of the great Austrian monasteries -- Sankt Florian, Göttweig, Maria Taferl and above all, Melk,

Benedictine Abbey at Melk

with its spendour and majesty -- does not obliterate their truer nature, that mysterious symplicity that makes their domes and belltowers an integral part of the centuries-old religious feeling of the landscape, of the curve of the hills, the silence of the woods, the peacefulness of tradition."*