Monday of Holy Week:
I found out about the fire at Notre Dame from a student on her way out of class on Monday. I walked from my classroom to my office, scrolling through the twitter images of the spires, flames, blackened stone, and crowds aghast in horror of the scene. Staring at the images of the people watching, I felt like I want to join them. I wonder if they felt the same tightening that I feel in my chest.
I imagine that we share this deep sense of loss, history and beauty—gone. As I watch videos of Parisians singing an Ave Maria as the steeple collapses into a sanctuary of flames, I hum along with them, joining that unsatiated heaviness and loss.
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