The other day I received a note on Facebook from Taylor, who is still in France, traveling around with her mother. She wrote this sweet little note on my wall about a woman we saw frequently while in France. This woman owned a small Kebab place right next to the tram track and we went there our first night in Grenoble. It became a place to meet up, to eat good food, and practice a little French. She became a woman we all looked up to, and she became our friend.
Anyways, here is what Taylor wrote:
Last night I visited our favorite Kebab Vendor. She was sitting around with a few friends from the city, a french woman, a niece of her’s from Turkey--who also speaks French and English, her husband, myself and my mother. We chatted for a while, about life, the roles of women, men, what to do after college, what to do when your feet hurt, love, and Coca Cola. You would have loved to have been there!
She says that every year it’s the same. They come, her étudiants, and they eat her food. She learns about their lives. Some bring their parents. And they become her family. Then they all leave. But they never really leave. She has them all in her heart. All of us are in her heart. Always.