I push my hands on the huge oak door

It opens with a creak and I walk through the threshold

It is a different world here,

With its tall ceilings and white marble floors

Tentatively I walk a little deeper into the marble palace

I grab a red leather book as I walk forward

Turning the object over, I trace the gold lettering that reads “Holy Bible”

I dip my index and middle finger in the holy water

I make the motion for “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”.

Taking a deep breath, I walk to a pew

The cathedral is dimly lit, with candles flickering off the walls

Stained glass makes patterns on the floor

It is peaceful

An elderly couple occupy the pew to my right

To my left is the confessional

The location seems awfully open and exposed 

I have no idea what I would say if I went to confession

The sunset makes the reds and oranges of the glass portraits more vibrant

The intense silence intimidates me

The statue of the Mother Mary calls to me

I stand as she pulls me towards the altar

It smells like matches as I watch the wax drip off the candles

I pick up a wooden stick and strike it against the rough groove on the box

I find unlit wax in front of the statue and hold the little flame to the wick

Bowing my head I begin to pray