Here is Hope, at the top of the world. Or at least, of the western hemisphere.

When you enter the building at street level, it’s impossible to tell how tall it is. Maybe it’s because the way you approach to the building doesn’t allow you to really look at it. Once inside, you are ushered into a box. You spend 47 seconds standing in the box, which seems to be taking you upwards, or at least the screens on three sides show the earth falling away below you. But the screens are not showing an actual view, they depict the city changing over the years. So you don’t know if you’re actually moving up. Perhaps you are moving down. You’re pretty sure you’re moving, because the box sways just enough to be convincing. But you really don’t know exactly where this journey will end.

When you are released from the box, you face another set of screens and more projected images. Then the screens rise, dramatically, and you are presented with the real view.

Or is it the real view? For a moment, Hope isn’t sure. The first thing she thinks is, wow, the people who made this model, or image, or whatever it is, certainly paid an impressive amount of attention to detail.

Everything’s so tiny and perfect! And clean. It can’t be a real city down there.

There’s a platform that you can stand on and look at images of the street 100 stories below. Hope prefers to lie on it and pretend she’s falling, like Jimmy Stewart in Vertigo.

North, of course, is the direction most people want to look. Hope obviously knows which view is north, but for those who don’t know, it’s clearly marked.

Hope feels as if she could touch it, but she’s pretty sure that’s not allowed.

The thing is: for a long time Hope did not want to come up here. She thought it would make her sad. But she felt ready today.

And now she can’t wait to come again.

Safely on the ground and back at home, Hope takes out her souvenir flattened penny. She doesn’t usually covet cheesy, useless items (well, to be honest, she does sometimes covet them, but she doesn’t usually indulge). But this was a big day for her. It felt, somehow, like a new beginning, and a memento seemed appropriate, even if it did come out of a vending machine.

Hope is made from an upholstery sample from Anne. Her dress is made from a pair of Anna’s leggings, and her shoes from Anna’s dress. Her bracelet is a ring I know I once bought for fun but can’t remember where, and her bag is cut from a worn-out bedspread.

On a clear day
Rise and look around you
And you’ll see who you are
. . .
You will see from far and near a world you’ve never seen before
On a clear day
On a clear day
You can see forever 
and ever
and ever more

—Alan Jay Lerner

PS: Recommendation: go on Youtube and listen to Barbra sing this. It will make you feel ready for anything.