That French Woman

When our son Mark was five years old and slated to attend kindergarten in the fall, a free dental examination was offered at the school.

Being a dutiful mother, I took his little hand in mine and we walked the few blocks together to the school, where we stood in line with all the other mothers and children. 

Somewhere, somehow, Mark had been warned by his little friends about dentists and all the horrors associated with them.

I must have turned my back for a moment and he took that opportunity to escape.  Of course I immediately panicked, but I figured he must have headed for the hills of home.  

That determined little guy reached home before me.  In those days, there was little traffic on Shelbourne Street and no bad guys lurking to snatch up little boys, but it still gave me an awful scare to have him missing for even a few minutes.

When he actually started attending kindergarten, he travelled to school and back every day with a little friend and neighbour, named Anne Marie.  She was a tiny French girl, as delicate as fine boned china. 

The two friends held hands and made their way to class together.

One unforgettable day, they did not arrive home at the proper time.  Anne Marie's mother phoned me and between the two of us, we built up a real panic.  To our great relief, however, the two buddies finally arrived home, faces flushed with the excitement of all they had seen.

A big new shopping center was being built at the corner of Shelbourne and Cedar Hill and the two little friends had been engrossed in watching the huge bulldozers and heavy duty equipment at work there. They completely lost track of time.

Fifty-five years later, in a Christmas letter to me, Anne Marie states:

"I have been reading your blogs and absolutely love them!  I've been waiting for the one where Mark goes off to school with 'that French girl from down the street' and having to hold her hand as they cross Shelbourne Street.  Good memories.  It was a long way to go to Doncaster School on our five year old legs.'

That letter from Anne Marie has prompted this post.   So important and rewarding to keep in touch with people from our past - I love it!