Beneath the last stretch of scaffolding still to be taken down, I sat on a stone bench in the corner, watching the ebb and flow of pilgrims as they entered the church in noisy bursts, most having just stepped off tour buses parked in the new lot outside. When passing the altar, almost everyone paused to touch or kiss the curtain draped over its doorway, the haze of dust that now filled the nave only adding to the sanctuary"s spirit of mystery. Before leaving, almost everyone bowed at the tiny cave where Jesus and Mary took shelter.