The world mourns tonight…….something irreplaceable has been lost.
I cried today; I cried as if souls were perishing in those flames.
And they were…….the souls of a forest of ancient trees……yes, a forest of trees was needed for the Cathedral roof.
I cried for the souls of the artisans who climbed the heights, pieced together the stained glass, cut and shaped and sculpted each piece of wood and lead and statuary.
I prayed that Heaven would send a downpour to dampen all the flames……
My ancestors built Cathedrals….perhaps the part of them that rests inside my own soul cried beside my own tears……
France says it will rebuild. Yes, rebuild, but never replace.
How do you replace 800 year old timbers, how do you replace the generations of skilled craftsmen who worked with their hands and hearts……
I never visited France; I have only gazed upon the marvelous pictures and drawings of the Rose Window, the guarding Gargoyles, and the mesmerizing beauty of this Lady of Paris.
Everyone knows the phrase “April in Paris.” This April day in Paris will never be forgotten…Yes, the Lady has been through much. She has been repaired throughout the centuries….I fear this time, repairs, however grandiose, will never bring her ancient glory back to a mourning world.
And so, the world mourns…….and a writer mourns in the best way she knows….with words, tonight.