We had a foreign exchange student that lived with us for a year. Camille spoke French and had the most wonderful accent. She rapidly grew tired of everyone imitating her pronunciation of each English word she spoke. We told her that French was the language of love and she looked at us like we were odd. A fact already known to many, including my very own family. Camille didn’t know she spoke the language of love.
My husband and I were able to spend a few days in France last fall, I was in enamored! The blue eyed guy by my side might have played a part in that….. But…I just loved, everything!
We took a taxi to our hotel, but when I realized we were driving through Montmartre I pleaded that we pull over and start walking. In my spontaneous moment I hadn’t considered how many stairs we would have to climb with our luggage. We left most of our things in England and brought a large backpack for France. We were backpacking our way through Europe! Thank heavens he was carrying….
(Truth: no one else carries this type of backpack in Paris. I might have giggled…..)
We climbed a billion or two stairs to the Sacre Coeur, this amazing brilliant church on the hill. There is a carousel at the base, and below that the fabric district. I touched every rolled bolt in every single shop.
We walked and walked and explored every nook and cranny, we made memories exploring the Louvre, walking along the Seine River, riding the metro to Versailles and standing in the light of the Eiffel Tower at night. So many cobblestones, stairs, statues, painted doors and pastries. Friendly “Bonjour’s” in every shop we visited. Endless surprises to discover and explore.
Paris hypnotized me. I long to return.
This week my heavy heart is with Paris. Sending prayers, love, and hope your way.