Seasons

Spring rains are here. The Carolina jasmine is blooming along my back deck and the camelia is blooming in front of the front porch. Stripping wallpaper, painting a porch swing, and unpacking boxes have been my activities of late. I finally found the hardware to a very important wardrobe that I hope will bring organization to the playroom (which at present looks like it was hit by a tornado). How in the world will this task of unpacking and settling in ever be finished and everything in its place? Will everything ever have its own place? I hope so, because I think my heart will be more settled when all of our belongings are more settled as well.

Today I went to talk with SA's class about France. They sampled a baguette and some French cheeses. We sang "Frere Jacques" and I introduced them to the names of the colors and some farm animals in French. It was a short introduction to French, but it was fun to see SA proudly tell her class the names ofthe colors in French. Just yesterday we were listening to a CD (in French) and she asked me what they were singing about. I told her in French and she asked me to explain in English. Then while wating for an appointment she was playing with her French laptop that she played wtih for hours on end after Christmas before the move. This time she became frustrated because she didn't understand a game. She is forgetting already and it breaks my heart. I know that it will come back later when she begins to study or hang out with French people again, but I can't help but be sad. It is such a gift to be able to speak another language and I don't want her to lose the ability that she had. Everyone says that this is bound to happen when one returns to an English speaking country, but I guess I was hoping that it wouldn't happen to us.

I have just been opening every unopened box in search of the hardware for the wardrobe and as I was opening and going through boxes and boxes of stuff I came across a champagne cork in my jewelry. It is the cork of the champagne that we drank at the hospital after CG was born. A friend of mine who is a sage femme (midwife) came to visit me and when she learned of my "dechire" (tear) she smiled and said that CG was like "le petit bouchon du champagne" (champagne cork), so I kept this cork because it reminds me of my friend and of CG's birth. There are so many memories that we have of "la France" but it really seems like a dream now. We were just there 2 months ago but now we are here and everything is so completely different. I can't help but miss the familiar (never thought I would think of France as the familiar) and the home where SA lived from 6 mos to almost four and CG from 0-16 mos. I was a stranger there, but that little town and that little house endeared itself to me over the years. The neighbors were kind to me and we made some very good friends there.

This week we got word that our very kind next door neighbor passed away. He was the one who helped me when I got locked out of the house with SA in the house (see this post). He gave me a beautiful bone-handled pocket knife and told me that every good Auvergnate should have a pocket knife, so as I have been opening my boxes I have been thinking of him. His health started to deteriorate at the end of 2007, but he and his wife still always watched from their living room window and waved to us as SA rode her bike on the tennis court across the street from their house. He even walked over with his oxygen tank this past summer in order to help us with a plumbing problem. Before the move he became bed-ridden along with his wife and they called me a couple of times for help. We visited with them before we left and D prayed for them. He was such a kind man. He had seen many seasons of life, and he was God's provision in my life on several occasions. I am impressed by the importance of relationships today and how we touch one another's lives over the days, weeks, months, and years. I miss my home in France this week- my friends, and yes, even the language. It was a season of life for which I am grateful. Because of those relationships, I see the world differently. Because of that experience I hope that I am more full of grace with others.