Fifteen years ago, then two years before that, and a few years before that and several years before that, Paris planted it’s magic and opened my heart.
It’s closed a few times, but Paris is always in there warming it back to life.
The magic is more than just the food and the art feeding the senses. It is – contrary to the popular stereotypes – the people whom we have always found to have open hands and hearts. Perfect Parisian strangers have offered assistance and directions, shared food and smiles. Even an infant Thing1 could not cry when he was there.
Tonight as my heart aches for this citadel of creativity and life, I see the people of Paris offering open doors (Portes ouverts) to fellow citizens and stranded tourists who may not be able to get home safely, and I am not surprised. I am surprised, however, to feel hope tonight. And it’s because of what is happening in Paris right now.
