Can I tell you another story about my Aunt Ann? Twenty-five years ago, I took...

Can I tell you another story about my Aunt Ann?
Twenty-five years ago, I took the train from Florida to Washington D.C. to visit her; and she took me to see the National Cathedral.
When I got home, I rolled a note card into my typewriter and wrote her a thank you note. I described to her what it was like for me to stand and look up in that cathedral, how I felt impossibly small and improbably safe. I worked hard to find the right words.
I knew, then, at twenty-three years old that I wanted...