Happiness On The Rural Streets Of France

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Today I felt happiness. A joy that ran through me, gliding past the smile on my face deep into my heart. Despite the bitter cold of a winter's afternoon, I felt the kind of warmth that tells you everything is alright. 

The children laughed and danced from one cobble to another: One hop, two, and hop. The historic, uneven terrain acted as the perfect playground. I walked beside them, mud springing from my boots with each step. 


Today we found the perfect place to break up our day of travel. A beautiful french village shielded from modernisation — a glimpse of a medieval past. Lining the cobbled streets were tiny stone houses adorned with quaint wooden frames — each wall decorated with intricate carvings and colourful shutters — a fairy tale hidden in rural France. 


Before climbing back into our car, ready for the final leg of our journey, we stopped at the whimsical well central to the village. "Hello, hello, hello", our voices echoed back to us, making the children giggle with glee. Each of us made wishes. The children think of what Santa may bring - toys, games, and dolls. Me, I wished for more days like these.




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