dix ans

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dix ans

i met a 10-year old girl…a beautiful p.k. with a lot to discuss. it was great. our initial interactions were distant. she was the youngest at the dinner table, separated by a minimum of 12 years to the next youngest. so i wasn’t surprised by her quiet nature but i could tell she had a voice.

surprised by my perception yet confident in it, i hung around close by as we stood outside the house, about to depart post (an oh so fabulous) meal. and to be quite honest, i wanted to talk. i was once in her place, the young p.k. that doesn’t get much attention as the adults schmooze, unintentionally excluding her from 98% of the conversation due to its subject matter. i wanted this p.k. to know that i wasn’t one of those adults, that she could speak and should speak…and i would willingly listen and engage.

did you go to french immersion?

finally! her question picked up from an earlier brief exchange that had me stumbling through french phrases and eventually getting around to asking her age. i get so excited when i hear that someone else in the room knows french. i’m not sure why i get excited coz i don’t speak it well. alas, there’s a lingering desire to really know it…one day…

so we got to chatting about french lessons, immersion, school trips, meeting famous people, neighbors…like i said, she had a lot to discuss. and she spoke with such interest both in what she divulged and what she heard me say. we could have kept on for quite a while. being the stronger conversationalist, she would have carried the encounter and i wouldn’t have minded one bit!

hopefully we’ll meet again soon and i’m praying i remember her name. until then, j’espere que je me souviens…

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