Quiet Cathedral

It was a European looking church. It looked as if it belonged in an Italian town with other grand monuments that looked as if they could be in a Leonardo painting; instead it was placed in a town that was unrecognizable and unknown by most of the world. Gentle and appealing, it ws painted a soft peachy color with white outline. There were columns on each end of the church, topped with miniscule looking crosses compared to the height of the columns. The crosses sat on rounded marble that gleamed faded turquoise in the sunlight, aged with time and light. Underneath the marble were open windowed areas where bells were kept and rung; white midieval looking detail continued beneath it, with a long rectangular design that looked both old fashioned and European. Three rounded entrances stood in front of the church, surrounded by peach colored marble, for marble was definitely a favorite when building this church. Above the entrance is a large oval design with stain glass windows surrounding the image of Christ, which would let in colorful, vibrant light around His face inside the church.

The extravagance and beauty of the church was unlike any I had ever seen as a child. I had been to three other churches in my life, and found that, although they were all stunning in their own ways, they could not compare in my eyes. As you walk in the church, the first thing you sense are the colors. The stain glass windows depict extrordinarily lifelike paintings of saints and Mary and Jesus and angels surrounding the face of God in the back of the church. I have known of this particular glass image since I was six, while others have needed more time to notice it. I know of it because, as a result of attending many catholic school masses over the years, I have been up at the altar multiple times. As mere first graders, my class and I were forced to go up to the alter and read the passages in front of the entire school, which basically filled up the entire church. So there I was, six years old, about to read in front of three hundred people, and more nervous than I had ever been when I noticed a huge round window I had never seen before. It was bright crimson red with dark blue detailing, and depicted the angels' unearthly holy faces floating around God, whose face was not painted in the windows, but carved in the stone of the church wall. As I was waiting in line to read my part, I gazed at it with wonder and confusion; wonder, because it was so brilliantly gleaming and glittering that I could not take my eyes off it. I looked at it with confusion because, as dazzlingly beautiful as it was, it was also slightly intimidating with the holy angels looking down on little, sinful me. And so, I could not decide whether ro not this lovely window was comforting or not.

The windows are not the only things that depict the saints: there are many pale statues in the front and back of the church in the forms of Mary, Joseph, and others as well. In front of the Virgin Mary statue, incense is burned and people come to pray and write messages in the prayer book to lost loved ones and to Mary herself. There is also a marble surrounded painting of Jesus on the cross, with statues of angels kneeling down on both sides. The painting is extremely realistic, and would often frighten me at times when I looked at the nails in his hands and the blood on his face and body.The halo around his head is metallic and golden, as well as the halos on the Stations Of The Cross. The writing is also written in gold, with the Stations built three dimensionally, protruding out of the wall. My name is actually written on the church wall, in one of the Stations, "Veronica wipes the face of Jesus." As a child, I felt very special because of this, and always wished to sit near my name, which I still do sometimes. Proud, unique, embarrased- these were the emotions I felt when I looked at "my" Station.

Saint Vincent de Paul Church has been present in Petaluma for over one hundred fifty years, and it definitely shows its age, not only with its scratched wooden pews, but with its historic architecture. It is unlike the modern religious monuments today, but is completely distinctive in its entirety; it gives of a sense of warmth, light, color, life. It creates the otherworldly atmosphere that a church should have. Seated in the pews I feel as if I am in another planet, a world of magesterial and religious beauty were colors are brighter, words have more sound, and God is ever present. It is a place were many different kinds of people come to worship; there are old people, young people, infants, and parents. As I sat in this church one day, I saw a boy I used to go to scool with standing with his family. His little baby sister was in his arms completely entranced with his right ear, and continued to put her soft hand on and in it. He never stopped her, resulting in her delight in inspecting his ears and the rest of his face. She would also walk back and forth to her other siblings, who always steadied her when she lost balance. Eventually her mother picked her up and whispered something in her ear, consequently leaving the girl respectful and silent the rest of mass. I also saw a group of teenagers sitting, not in the pews, but on the floor talking to each other and listening to their ipods. I saw a manwho I had seen at church all of my life, who had a bald head and a friendly smile he always had, no matter when I saw him. In this church I saw every kind of person, but could also see my childhood imbedded in every wall, window, and ailse.

-- Veronica