Notre Dame Paris — the Cathedral in the Sky
A message of healing and hope
Billowing smoke confirmed my fears. An inferno devoured Notre Dame. The sight tore me apart but my eyes stayed glued to the horizon. How could this happen? Why? My husband stood with me in silence, our hearts breaking. It was good he was there.
“Are you OK? It’s terrible!” Messages submerged my phone. Everyone knew the two Notre Dames, Paris and Chartres, were my treasured resources.
The post-fire photos were eerily beautiful. Light filtered from above where the melted spire had torn open the roof and caved stone arches. The altar’s large golden cross glimmered through the smoky haze. It so reminded me of the World Trade Center’s cross.
The firemen who battled to keep the cathedral’s front towers from collapsing provided another parallel. If the cathedral’s towers fell, the church would collapse. But she withstood the fiery onslaught. They knew how to build things back when.
Though I yearned to go, I knew the disaster gawpers would throw me off my mission. I’d encountered them at the WTC site in New York. People snapping photos like they were on holiday. I wanted to scream. “Don’t you know people died there? That people working in the rubble are suffering still?” No one died in Notre Dame’s blaze, but my urge to shoot…
