Barcelona, Spain - November 1883
I am at a crossroads when he enters my life.
A year and a half ago, a bishop laid my first stone. In the time since then, I have grown; workers have dug and lined my foundations, sprawling over this space in the heart of the city.
It is a fitting spot, as I am meant to become that heart...beating with the rhythm of the faithful, given over to love of God and His creation. Everything about me is intended to express that love for as long as I shall stand.
Yet I do not love God. I know nothing about Him, and I know nothing at all of love.
At least until today.
Today, I see the newcomer for the first time. My patron, Señor Bocabella, walks him around the cavity of my foundation, describing his vision of me with grand sweeps of his hands.
The newcomer
