My family’s devout Catholic faith had often functioned as a kind of substitute for the Korean heritage I had lost, and I was very much under its sway: from Nativity plays and Lenten soup suppers to the holy cards stuffed in my Bible and the tiny cross my mother traced on my forehead before I went to school, there was rhythm and ritual in my Catholic upbringing, a sense of purpose and interconnectedness. I had long found comfort in it.