neighbors

The other evening Jacques made the acquaintance of our three-year-old neighbor. There are a lot of young children in our apartment complex, and I'd been hearing tiny French voices from across the terraces since we arrived, but wasn't sure behind which door lay the prize. Leave it to another three-year-old to root him out.

The ice breaking came after school, when the other little boy invited Jacques to pick unidentifiable berries off a bush to make a "galette et puis une soupe." An hour was spent picking, burying, unburying, smashing, etc., until the rain put a cap on it.

In the meantime, I got to know L.'s mama, and what a vibrant, engaging person she turned out to be! Stars! the idea that another mom with a child Jacques' age lives two doors away from me, one who is friendly and not too reserved to invite us over for more play and conversation -- it's made my week. There's something deeply comforting in the knowledge that we don't always have to take the bus or the metro to go see a friend, or vice versa; friendship is just down the path, for the both of us.