While celebrating my dear husband’s 70th birthday in Europe, we often exchanged smiles and greetings with the many other white-haired people we encountered in Paris, Barcelona, and Amsterdam. Later I would conjure up in my imagination stories of their lives shaped by history, resilience, and faith.
I imagined Madame Madeleine Cohen, 87, living in the Marais, a district with deep Jewish roots. Each morning, she walks to her favorite café by the Seine, where she has her daily café au lait and a small bowl of fruit and reflects on her past as an artist. Though her hands are unsteady, her memories of wartime Paris and the resilience of her people remain sharp. In my story, her dear friend Pierre, 90, a retired actor and fellow survivor of the war, often joins her for a glass of wine, and together they recall the days of resistance and liberation. He speaks of the past, the resistance movements, the secret hiding places, the bitter taste of exile. Madeleine listens with empathy, though she knows it’s not only the trauma they share, but also the joy and resilience of their people. As they sit by the Seine, they reminisce about the past, the days when they danced at the fêtes de la Libération, when the streets of Paris were filled with hope.
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