I went to Sevilla’s cathedral the other day (which is the biggest one in the world, they have the certificate to prove it).
Besides being amazingly beautiful and full of fascinating bits of history, it proved to be of great service to me. I went with a group of other Language and Culture Assistants, and with our lovely student ID cards admission was free (a fantastic perk considering our less than fabulous stipend and the fact that we don’t get paid for over a month). Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my card. I dug through my purse and finally concluded that I had to have lost it at some point. So I reluctantly paid the 8€ admission. I was pretty bummed about having to do this, but forgot about it as soon as we walked into the cathedral. It’s one of those places that draws a very authentic jaw dropping reaction; I looked from the floor up to the ceiling 42 meters above my head and had to turn in a couple circles before being able to say anything but “Wow.”
We spent the next couple hours wandering from chapel to chapel, climbing to the top of the 90 meter Giralda, discussing whether el Mausoleo de Cristobal Colón actually holds Columbus’ remain or not, and enjoying Rick Steve’s often comical descriptions of what we were seeing.
After exhausting the strength of our legs, we found ourselves sitting in front of the chapel where baptisms take place.
Looking over this chapel is St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. People pray to St. Anthony to help them find such things as faith, missing family members, a husband, or lost car keys. So I’m sitting in a pew in front if this chapel, with Anthony looking down at me, and I open my purse to get my water bottle out. I reach into my purse, and my hand comes out with my “lost” student ID card, no longer missing. How’s that for creepy? Thanks, Anthony!