
The new church looked like a recycled hangar and was dedicated to an obscure American lady, not even properly Saint at the time.
I still have pictures of my younger brother dressed up for his First Communion in front of that... shed.

Last Sunday I ventured there to take a picture of the statue of the Saint, which I knew was in the garden, and found the church open, almost a miracle here in the early afternoon.
I went inside and saw the light. No, not in that sense, I am quite hopeless now, but a lot of sunlight filtered by colored windows.
After a recent week of full immersion in Roman baroque, I was impressed by the simple interior of this church.

See also: An American Saint - S.E.A.S. - Mother Seton Parish (in Italian)
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