I collect them, even if they’re not my “faith.” I try to feel the pull they must have on others. Sometimes I do feel it, but remotely, as if from a very distant star. Or merely the remembered warmth of a summer evening, felt in the chill of January.

I collect them, even if they’re not my “faith.” I try to feel the pull they must have on others. Sometimes I do feel it, but remotely, as if from a very distant star. Or merely the remembered warmth of a summer evening, felt in the chill of January.