French husband proposed to me in a small neighborhood park in Paris. His breath was swirling white from the cold; funny when you are first in love, the things around seem brand new and miraculous, seeing his breath made me feel less cold. We sat on a bench. French husband handed me a box of chocolates. Opening it I saw a simple gold band in one of the empty chocolate spots. Oh. I looked up at him, and followed his eyes…
Slouched over the park's fountain was a young man, obviously poor in spirit, shaking from cold, he was holding a spoon over a lighter. I looked back at French Husband, and tried to understand. French Husband stood up, as if in a trance he went to the young man, put his arms around him and held him for which seemed like eternity. He rocked him and gently talked to him. Eventually, the two of them walked to the nearby phone booth, later an ambulance came. French Husband walked back to where I was sitting. He told me the young man was trying to shoot up heroin- and yet he felt it was more than that. French Husband sensed the young man was trying to kill himself, and he felt he needed someone to hold on to.
At that moment I knew my answer would be yes.
The way to know the heart of a person is to see how they treat people they don't know when in need.
Photo: Views and painting of Versailles that I took years ago.
Twenty three years today.
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