Now this is what I call a church.
Sacre Coeur, or Sacred Heart, is at the top of Montemarte, the highest butte in Paris.
It was at this amazingly glorious spot I learned the most important words in French:
1. Bon jour.
2. Sie vous plais.
Sacre Coeur was my Catholic Mama's all time favorite symbol--the sacred heart of Jesus's mom.
It was essential that Big Sis and I made it up there to light candles and pray for Mama's soul.
Being hardly Catholic anymore, still the grandeur, the spectacle and the priest's velvety French and the old nun's high soprano caused Big Sis and I to fall into each others' arms and cry like babies.
We flung Euros in every direction, lighting candles, buying rosaries, icons, medallions and everything else they had for sale. We even found an ancient old priest in a side room who put his blessing on every doodad we'd bought.
I don't care what religion you are, Sacre Coeur is the churchiest church on the planet. It even made Notre Dame look like a revival tent.
And that's saying something.