Personal photo: my neighbor's front door.
From a Protestant internet friend:
Before we believed, in 1970 my wife collapsed on the street in Quito; probably the altitude. People ran over, a doctor gave her a pill, and they picked her up and carried her into a convent on the May 24 (Quito independence day and my birthday) square; I sat there by her as she lay in front of a huge rendering of the Sacred Heart. It was incredibly peaceful and comforting.
