As the end of the semester approaches, its pace definitely seems to be getting quicker. And I can't help but find myself listing all of the things I can hardly wait to have or see again when I get back. That's not my only list, though. The list of things that I'll be sad to leave behind is getting longer.
One of the nicest things - something I think will be one of my fondest memories of living in France - is going to my nearby boulangerie-pâtisserie on weekend mornings and hearing, "Bonjour, madame!" An exclamation point isn't the correct punctuation because it doesn't really describe the tone of the petite, friendly salutation of the lady behind the counter. There's nothing falsely exuberant about the way she greets you when you enter her business. Aunt Dede described it best when she said it's like they're singing to you.
When you walk into a boulangerie, you're greeted by the song-like "hello" of the bakery owner and the smell of fresh bread and pastries. What could be more wonderful?
The two boulangeries I usually go to are basically right next to each other. They even seem to stagger the days that they're closed. On Sunday mornings, after church services are over, there are lines leading out both of their doors. And you can tell they remember their regular customers. One Sunday morning the bakery owner spotted an elderly lady in the line someplace ahead of me, smiled, and said, "Coucou, Madame! Bonjour!" They had a brief, friendly conversation and the customer went on her way. I couldn't help but smile.
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