The most comforting sound right now is lying here while Steve and his cousin and his nephew, Jean, listened to this wonderful mixture of jazz and salsa, and now a French language radio program. I cannot follow the details, but for just a bit, things quietly feel almost normal. This tiny patch of comfort and normalcy is very sobering, knowing that just a few streets away, an entire family lies buried under the concrete of a home so like this one, with imagined lives so like those of our hosts.
I am so moved by Steve and his family opening their home to us. Steve's nephew, fifteen year-old Jean has kindly consented to help me pick up a bit of essential French. Younger than my own sons, but maturing so quickly, Jean is endlessly patient with my Tennessee-accented attempts at French, and ready with a kind and enchanting smile despite what surrounds us.
In the midst of all of this, I am free to sleep, humbly thankful for this kind and gentle welcome.
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