French Husband's family is small compared to mine. Plus half of them live on the other side of France. Today his niece Juliette's daughter, Tatiana, made her profession of faith.
Juliette is the one who taught herself how to speak english by listening to Michael Jackson.
She is also the one who taught me the secrets of French baking. Juliette makes the best cakes, I have pounds to prove it.
Juliette's daughter looks exactly as her mother did at the same age. It makes me feel old is a good way. I first met Juliette when she was eleven or was she twelve?
The church was small, Tatiana was the only one making her profession of faith and a boy was making his baptism. He was a seven year old with a broken arm, a toothless grin and beaming like a little Jesus. Did I see a halo above his tousled hair? I really just wanted to pinch his cheeks.
The church was higher than it was long. If Laduree was a church, and it is to some a place of worship, it would look like this. A little pearly pastel beauty.
The priest spoke in a way that made me want to listen. He made me wish I could be a priest, foregoing the celibate part of course, he had a way of letting the symbols, the words come alive. Relat-i-able. He spoke to Tatiana, " …following the way of Christ isn't easy," he pointed to the cross, "…not fun at all… and it usually means trying to do the right thing when it isn't often our first choice."
It is not a sugar coated love, nor is it a bitter pill.
Tatiana, French Husband's niece.
On her way to becoming a young woman, professing that she wants to walk the way of loving.
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