When you walk around the corner from my downtown office, there is a beautiful church. The stained glass is breathtaking.  It’s visible from some of the offices at my company, but unfortunately not mine.  They have a noon mass everyday.  I think it’s a short one, only half an hour – a lunchtime mass.  I’ve only been inside once, to light a candle for a dear friend, hoping that doing so somehow helped with her loss. I forget it’s there sometimes, that church.  It has a beautiful sunken courtyard.  It’s always there, but only every once in a while do I remember to look down and really enjoy it.  To me, it looks like a sanctuary, down there below the bustle of the downtown streets.  I long to go in the gate and down the stairs, but I never see anyone in there, so assume it’s off limits.  I have a co-worker who attends that church and drops off homemade casseroles once a month or so, I’ll have to ask him.  When I do remember to look, I feel really peaceful when I see it.