Sara Felsenstein '12 | Sept. 25, 2013 | Notre Dame Magazine
Not much mattered but the path before us.
As we set out towards the Grotto those Sunday nights, unfinished schoolwork seemed as distant as the dock on St. Joseph’s Beach. We laughed and recapped the weekend as we crossed North Quad and passed the back of the Main Building, pausing at the top of the stairway that leads to the shrine.
Depending on the season, the trees above the Grotto rustled softly or shook violently as we walked down the stairs in silence. Some of us knelt for a few seconds, others for ten minutes. We never felt pressured. Everything in college is measured by time, but time doesn’t pass at the Grotto.