If we take the time to stop and reflect upon the daily miracles that fill our lives, it's easy to recognize the hand of the Lord in even the most unlikely of places. This week I am off of school on fall vacation. We'd wanted to rent a car and take a trip up to Frankfurt, Germany to visit a close friend. Unfortunately, we nearly had a heart attack when we started researching the cost of car seats. To rent a car seat is 45 euros per kid, and new seats would cost around 160 euros--each!
And then the miracle happened. While second-hand stuff is less common in Lyon, we amazingly found a store that was selling two used car seats for less money than it would have cost to rent one. For all of the child safety monitors out there, we do recognize that second-hand seats are a bit more risky than new ones. However, we also believe that eating is important. Given our personal situation, we think the benefit outweighs the risk, and we feel so blessed.
Two other stories: I was out shopping with Brooklyn at a big store far from home. It had been a long trip and she was tired. She noticed some kids with cotton candy on the way in and wanted some desperately. She asked about it for the entire time we were in the store, albeit politely. She had been so good that I wanted to reward her for her efforts, but I didn't have any cash on me, and I was sure that the cotton candy vendor wouldn't accept a bank card. Amazingly, as we walked out of the store, they were giving away cotton candy for free to kiddos under the age of 12. Needless to say, Brooklyn was simply delighted.
Then at the bus stop a few minutes later I accidentally dropped my bank card. A man found it on the ground and returned it to the bus driver who gave it to me. Obviously my heart was filled with gratitude for his honesty and for the headache saved. I don't know what was most amazing: the car seats, the credit card, or the cotton candy that appeared like manna from heaven for my little girl.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Post #23: Deceptively Honest
Brooklyn is reaching that age where she is starting to be deceptive. However, it's kind of hard to be angry with her when she is so darn honest about it. Two days ago we had the following conversation.
The background: Brooklyn has just been caught trying to open a single-serving packet of cherry-flavored Children's Benadryl.
Brooklyn: Leave my room, Mom.
Me: Why do you want me to go?
Brooklyn: I want to be alone so that I can get the scissors and open this. Then I'm going to eat it and put the package in the trash can so that you won't even know.
I confess that it was hard for me to keep a straight face and not start laughing right then and there. However, it wasn't until a couple of hours later that I figured out she was speaking from experience. Jason and I got into the freezer to pull out some ice cream sandwiches and discovered that two were missing--both strawberry--Brooklyn's favorite flavor. Sure enough, the packages were in the trash!
The background: Brooklyn has just been caught trying to open a single-serving packet of cherry-flavored Children's Benadryl.
Brooklyn: Leave my room, Mom.
Me: Why do you want me to go?
Brooklyn: I want to be alone so that I can get the scissors and open this. Then I'm going to eat it and put the package in the trash can so that you won't even know.
I confess that it was hard for me to keep a straight face and not start laughing right then and there. However, it wasn't until a couple of hours later that I figured out she was speaking from experience. Jason and I got into the freezer to pull out some ice cream sandwiches and discovered that two were missing--both strawberry--Brooklyn's favorite flavor. Sure enough, the packages were in the trash!
Post #22: Burnt Intentions
I´m a lousy housekeeper. It wouldn´t be so embarrassing if I didn´t try so darn hard, but I actually do recognize the importance of cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc., particularly as relates to making a house a home. I already shared a bit of my ineptitude a few posts back when I confessed to the blue laundry. Unfortunately, the story doesn't end there. A couple days later, I tried to make homemade bread. Tragically, I killed the yeast and baked bricks instead. However, I knew I'd reached my all-time low when I overheard Jason having the following conversation with Brooklyn.
Jason: If you'll sit down at the table and eat your lunch, then I'll let you have a cookie that isn't burnt.
Once upon a time I had dreams of my children reminiscing on their childhood and remembering the smell of Mom's delicious homemade cookies when they came home from school. Mine will probably only remember carcinogenic carbon. Until we get back to the States where my oven has a timer and a temperature control, I think I'd best leave the baking to the bakers.
Jason: If you'll sit down at the table and eat your lunch, then I'll let you have a cookie that isn't burnt.
Once upon a time I had dreams of my children reminiscing on their childhood and remembering the smell of Mom's delicious homemade cookies when they came home from school. Mine will probably only remember carcinogenic carbon. Until we get back to the States where my oven has a timer and a temperature control, I think I'd best leave the baking to the bakers.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Post #21: The Exit
Coming to France has definitely helped me better appreciate the difficulties that my students face as learners of English as a second language. There's nothing like moving to a country where you don't speak the language to make you humble. While we often glorify the enlightening process of learning another language, we forget that this perception of "brilliance" generally comes in retrospect. At the time, learning a second language can be downright humiliating.
And thus, six weeks after the incident, I'm finally summoning the courage to write about my first trip to the Carrefour grocery store.
I survived shopping. I even survived the process of checking out, which as you might guess, involves talking to another human being. And then I went out the door. I understood the writing on the door, "Sortie," which means "Exit." Unfortunately, I didn't understand "de Secours." It wasn't until the security guard came chasing me down, scolding all the while, that I figured out that I had just gone out the "Emergency Exit." I don't blame the guard for scolding. What stung was the fact that the door was so clearly labeled--easy enough for a child to understand. In an unfamiliar language environment, it doesn't matter how educated you are or how many other languages you may speak: if you don't speak the host language, you look downright dumb.
At such moments, it's tempting to head for the nearest "Emergency Exit" into a familiar language and cultural context. Fortunately, the thought of repacking all those suitcases is a pretty good deterrent...
And thus, six weeks after the incident, I'm finally summoning the courage to write about my first trip to the Carrefour grocery store.
I survived shopping. I even survived the process of checking out, which as you might guess, involves talking to another human being. And then I went out the door. I understood the writing on the door, "Sortie," which means "Exit." Unfortunately, I didn't understand "de Secours." It wasn't until the security guard came chasing me down, scolding all the while, that I figured out that I had just gone out the "Emergency Exit." I don't blame the guard for scolding. What stung was the fact that the door was so clearly labeled--easy enough for a child to understand. In an unfamiliar language environment, it doesn't matter how educated you are or how many other languages you may speak: if you don't speak the host language, you look downright dumb.
At such moments, it's tempting to head for the nearest "Emergency Exit" into a familiar language and cultural context. Fortunately, the thought of repacking all those suitcases is a pretty good deterrent...
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Post #20: You can't take it with you
Even though I've shopped and bought and shopped again over the past six weeks, I've recently become surprisingly detached from materialistic things. As a foreigner, I'm keenly aware that everything I purchase is temporary. It's easy to be satisfied with merchandise that is less than perfect because I won't be able to take it with me anyway. Who cares if the couch is a bit stained?--we only need it for a year.
In a way, I hope that I can keep this perspective once I return to the States. After all, we are all sojourners here on earth. Viewed from an eternal perspective, our journey is oh-so-brief. When it comes to "things," no matter what it is, you can't take it with you.
This perspective has helped me keep my cool with my little ones. We've learned that our nice tile floor is both nice and hard, meaning that nearly everything that gets dropped gets shattered. While such moments can be frustrating and disappointing, it helps to remember that ultimately, it's just stuff.
In a way, I hope that I can keep this perspective once I return to the States. After all, we are all sojourners here on earth. Viewed from an eternal perspective, our journey is oh-so-brief. When it comes to "things," no matter what it is, you can't take it with you.
This perspective has helped me keep my cool with my little ones. We've learned that our nice tile floor is both nice and hard, meaning that nearly everything that gets dropped gets shattered. While such moments can be frustrating and disappointing, it helps to remember that ultimately, it's just stuff.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Post #18: A Castle on a Hill
Every fairytale is crowned by a castle on a hill.
When I moved to Salzburg, Austria as a senior in high school, I found that fairytale landscape--well, almost. One of the most picturesque cities in the world, Salzburg is framed by its gleaming white fortress on the hill.
I must confess that before moving to Lyon, I was worried that I might feel disappointed by the landscape. After all, Salzburg is pretty hard to live up to in terms of beauty. (Of course, considering the fact that I was moving from Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, I probably shouldn't have worried.)
Amazingly, Lyon shares many of the features I loved most about Salzburg:
A "castle" on a hill. This "castle" is actually the "Basilique de Notre-Dame de Fourvière"--a white cathedral that overlooks the city.
A river running through the middle of the city, along with quaint little pedestrian bridges. Lyon actually has two such rivers: the Rhône and the Saône.
Little side streets and alleys in the old-town that transport you to beautiful, hidden courtyards.
And so, while Lyon may not be quite as picturesque as Salzburg (the mountains aren't quite as close), it's still pretty spectacular for an Illinois gal like me.
Here are a couple of pictures taken from the top of the Fourvière. It's easy to spot our neighborhood because we're relatively close to the "crayon" (pencil.)
Finally, here's a picture of our street from above.
When I moved to Salzburg, Austria as a senior in high school, I found that fairytale landscape--well, almost. One of the most picturesque cities in the world, Salzburg is framed by its gleaming white fortress on the hill.
I must confess that before moving to Lyon, I was worried that I might feel disappointed by the landscape. After all, Salzburg is pretty hard to live up to in terms of beauty. (Of course, considering the fact that I was moving from Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, I probably shouldn't have worried.)
Amazingly, Lyon shares many of the features I loved most about Salzburg:
A "castle" on a hill. This "castle" is actually the "Basilique de Notre-Dame de Fourvière"--a white cathedral that overlooks the city.
A river running through the middle of the city, along with quaint little pedestrian bridges. Lyon actually has two such rivers: the Rhône and the Saône.
Little side streets and alleys in the old-town that transport you to beautiful, hidden courtyards.
And so, while Lyon may not be quite as picturesque as Salzburg (the mountains aren't quite as close), it's still pretty spectacular for an Illinois gal like me.
Here are a couple of pictures taken from the top of the Fourvière. It's easy to spot our neighborhood because we're relatively close to the "crayon" (pencil.)
Finally, here's a picture of our street from above.
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