lookbacks
lookbacks
It’s the time of year to look back - so let’s look back at 2025.
I made some mistakes this year
Like wearing a pristine white dress on the dirty, crowded, metro
and another time, I tried glittery four-inch heels on Paris’ cobble-stone streets. That last was a tragic idea - think romanticized cigarettes.
There were sad things
A champagne flute full of Dom Pérignon Rosé, deserted on a studying student’s desk (it was test week) and I had to say goodbye to my favorite, threadbare, Miraculous-Ladybug pajamas.
There were beautiful things too..
I saw a light, late-night snow, in early November Paris,
several Louis XV gilt-crystal chandeliers dangling, like angels, in a ladies' restroom, and thousands of white Christmas fairy-lights, strung across the top floors of a fog-covered construction site - giving it the look of heaven.
And little miracles
Like Michelin-star meals served on a paper plates and Yves Delorme lace table-cloths draped over plastic folding tables.
Those last two were here - at 6th street - this very weekend.
My Grandmère and the archdiocese of Paris, have little holiday lunches for orphan groups every weekend in December. The group I saw were 70 little-ones from Sudan and Gaza. I doubt that I ever saw so much cuteness in one place - so I mingled.
I sat at one table where a five-year-old was gawking at the lavishly decorated ballroom.
“Who do you think lives here?” I asked her, before joining in and pretending to gawk-around.
A nun, chaperoning the table, translated my question to Arabic.
“Hanan,” the girl replied excitedly, before lapsing into wide-eyed silence.
I looked to the nun who explained that Hanan, in many Arabic fables, was ‘the Sultan’s Daughter.’
I couldn’t stay long, and as I left I looked back at the happy little faces.
“I want one”, I said, half to myself.
An elder-nun, who I suppose was guarding the exit, said, somewhat indignantly, “We don’t sell them” - as if I’d been serious.
(I’m not in a position to own a cat).
“I don’t want to buy one - that would be morally bankrupt,” I answered with equal indignance.
“I want to steal one,” I added, before leaving her there with her sour face.
.
.
A Playlist for this:
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_25.mp3
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