Friendship in France

I finished a lovely book today called "French By Heart," by Rebecca Ramsey about her family's four years spent living in Auvergne. It was just what I needed to read to excite my senses as she described the sights, sounds, tastes and smells of La Belle France. I was giddy with anticipation for our year there until I read these words on page 190 near the very end of her tale;

Looking back, I feel pretty foolish. I had fallen in love with France and thought a real French friend would be proof that France loved me back. So, it wasn't to be. So what? What did it matter if all my French friends were the disenchanted ones, the ones who complained about the lack of bike lanes and the dog poop, the ones who appreciated smiling and the ability to be a little optimistic every now and then, even though it made them look naive?

Moments after I read these words I held the brand-new, first-ever issued passports for my two children for the first time ever. My excitement momentarily robbed, I rubbed my thumb over the gold letters stamped upon the leather-like blue cover contemplating my expectations and our reality. What am I looking to accomplish with this adventure? Do I imagine some French female will take the emotional risk to befriend a woman who is guaranteed to leave her in short time? Do I even want to take that risk myself?

It's not like I even have a choice. It is in my very nature to seek out kindred spirits wherever I go. So we will go and I will search. Whatever shall I find? God only knows. But it is His path I hope to follow and where it takes me is the best place - even if there is no "amie de mon couer" awaiting me. Thankfully, I can rest on the reality that my true ami de mon couer, mon mari, comes with me and will be with me until the very end of time. That, and a whole lot of Sisters will be faithfully awaiting my return.

I am truly blessed.