In French they say:
Les Yeux sont le Miroir de l’Ame — The Eyes are the Mirror to the Soul
***
As I looked admiringly through the shop window, I was captivated by a collection of dreams: a bit of gild, rust, religious artifacts, holders for candles soon to be lit, an angel hidden amongst the what-not, and a tiny oil painting of a guided journey. It was as if these objects were waiting for me, speaking part of my story.
The symbolism of the objects gathered there brings a smile to my heart. Stepping back, I was caught up in my thoughts in the middle of Rue de Paradis. It was as if I was peeking into the window of someone’s soul, finding mementos of their past life, enchanted by how they had arranged the fragments of their journey and wondering where the story began.
This feeling of peering into the soul of a stranger is not unlike the experience of meeting someone for the first time. We look into their eyes, seeing a soul longing to be discovered and loved.
And sometimes our hands intertwine, and we follow.
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