A fairly common question I am asked is, how did you like living in Paris? I always answer the same way- it was the hardest thing I ever did but the best adventure EVER! I learned so much and wouldn’t trade the experience.
One of my MANY “favorite” memories is the open-air market, Marche Maubert. It took place on Tuesdays and Fridays a few blocks from my flat on Boulevard St Michel. I would walk there with my many bags ready to be filled. Dinner that night would be whatever great thing I could find.
Oh, the smells and the sounds are etched in my memory. Can you smell the baguettes and croissants fresh from the bakery? I sure can! The garden fresh produce, bread, cheese, meat, seafood, plants, purses, wallets, scarves, and other wares were all waiting to be taken home.
“Bonjour, I would like six peaches, s’il vous plait.” “Oui,” the vendor would respond. And then he would ask how many for today, tomorrow, or the next day. “Deux for each day, s’il vous plait!” Carefully and with a light touch, he would choose two ripe ones, two almost ripe and two that would need a day or two to ripen. One thing I learned quickly is NEVER, EVER touch the peaches; leave that job to the experts! What a fantastic experience, and what a way to do life!
On one of my many trips to the market, I found a scraggly little basil plant for a few euros; I scooped it up and brought it back to my flat. I placed the little plant in my rather dark galley-style kitchen as close as possible to the only natural light source. The floor-to-ceiling French door was a godsend for the dark kitchen. When preparing dinner, I would open the doors and let the sights and sounds of Paris flow in. The Eiffel Tower would begin its twinkling around the same time I started dinner. Occasionally I would step out onto the balcony and watch the tower dance with light. Paris is magical.
Every morning I would come into the kitchen for my steamy cup of black coffee and see the little basil plant stretching with all its might toward the light. I would turn the plant around, and the next day the plant was again straining toward the only light source available. Ahhh!…that little basil plant liked the french door as much as I did. What a lesson that little plant demonstrated for me!
Jesus said I am the light of the world. When residing in a dark place or world, I must stretch with all my might toward the light source, Jesus. And when, by chance or on purpose, I get turned around, I need to find the light and once again reach for it.
No matter where you are today or the situation you find yourself in, Jesus invites you to turn toward him. His promise to you is that by walking in the light, you will no longer have to live in darkness. (John 8:12). What a glorious thought- Jesus, God’s only Son, is the light of the world!
One thought on “The Market in Paris”
Oh how nice!!! I will show my mom.
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