A birthday on Bastille Day.


It’s Bastille Day in France.  In our family it is granddaughter A’s birthday.  She’s fifteen, the middle child of my nine grandchildren, and the middle girl of seven granddaughters.

Today I recall one of my favorite memories of A as a young child.  She was four or five years old when her family took her and her older brother and sister for about a month-long trip to Europe.  My ex-husband and I had the good fortune to meet them in Paris for the better part of a week.  A’s mom, my daughter, had rented a little apartment in Montmartre.  D and I found a hotel a few blocks away so we could be near them.

I don’t know if it was sheer good luck or good planning on my daughter’s part but they could see the Eiffel Tower from their living room.  Imagine her mom’s delight when an excited A exclaimed, “I know I’m in Paris because I can see the real Eiffel Tower!”  Her mom had probably told her in advance that she would see the Eiffel Tower but I know that she had recently seen a movie called “Rugrats in Paris.”  I’m guessing it was the movie that impressed her but I was glad she recognized what she was seeing.

So Happy, Happy Birthday Dear A.  I hope you will one day return to Paris.  It’s a magical place.

And FRANCE, as you put this day to bed, I’m hoping it was a happy celebration for all.

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