They are the first visitors of the day. They arrive under perfect sapphire skies and wall-to-wall sunshine.
There are three of them: an old man with short, silver hair and red-framed glasses; a woman his age with red hair and bright green eyes; and a middle-aged man with sandy brown hair and a goatee.
I watch them closely. Even as other tourists arrive, my attention does not stray from these three.
The silver-haired man is especially excited. He can't keep his hands off me. The smile never leaves his face.
"I can't believe I'm finally here." His hand shakes as he touches a piece of my Nativity façade. "That we're finally here."
The woman touches his shoulder. "I'm glad we get to share it."
"Our first family vacation." The younger man says it sarcastically...but without malice, I think. "Next year, let's take the camper to the Grand Canyon."
Slowly, they make their way around me, lingering at every feature. At the rate they're going, they might spend all day just on the outside of me.
"You were right." The woman smiles and takes the old man's hand. "This place is incredible."
"The Sagrada Família, it's called. The 'sacred family.'" The old man nods at the woman, then at the young man. "You're my sacred family."
"Who only just met each other three months ago," says the young man.
The old man shrugs. "That's a good thing, isn't it? It means we can't be sick of each other yet."
"You can't just throw people together and call them a family." The young man hangs his head. "You can't replace the families that went before. The ones we've lost."
"We can try." The old man lets go of the woman's hand and runs up to a passing stranger, a teenage girl. Gives the girl his camera and asks her to take a picture of him and his family.
They pose in front of my Nativity façade. The old man wraps his arms around the woman and the young man's shoulders.
"Mom, Dad, and Dunne." The old man smiles wide. "We'll put this one on our Christmas cards this year."
The young man shakes his head and smirks. "You're a real fomedian, you know that, Pop?"
"We'll sign it 'the Gowdys,'" says the old man.
And that is when I figure it out. When I realize why these people got my attention.
They are a sign.
They have the same name as my maker—"Gowdy," like "Gaudí." What else could they be?
They have brought me a message from him.
I have often wondered about my maker's plans for me. Why he designed me and set my construction in motion.
He must have known that he would never see me finished in his lifetime. Over one hundred and twenty-five years after my birth, and his successors are still not done building me.
Looking back, I no longer think he believed I would relieve his loneliness. I can't imagine he thought I would surpass mankind or take flight or redeem the sinners of the world, either.
I don't think my purpose has much to do with permanence, accomplishment...or enlightenment. I doubt I will ever fully understand my existence.
Perhaps it was just this. Maybe this is all I need.
"Smile," says the girl with the camera.
"Say 'Gaudí'," says the old man, and then he and his family say it together.
I say it with them. Gaudí.
And the girl takes our picture. The Sacred Family and the Sagrada Família. Together.
All of us smiling.
Maybe this is all anyone ever needs.
To find each other in a crowd. Kindred spirits coexisting for an instant of time.
To cobble together a family wherever we can. Whenever we can.
To forget the horrors and losses of the past, no matter how painful. To forgive our own mistakes.
To be able to move on.