The sweetness of Nice

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The news bulletin crashed onto my TV screen about another terrible attack in France. It didn't give a city, just that it was on the Southern coast. I watched as people ran screaming through streets and the horrible blair of emergency vehicles echoed in the air.

I watched and drew in my breath as I began to recognize patterns of a city I had just visited in April. Yes, I knew that hotel. I recognized the archways that fronted buildings on a main street. I knew then that it was Nice.

My heart filled with compassion and love for the sweetness of the people I had met in Nice. There was the young waitress who assured me that I would like an untranslateable entree. There was the market vendor who laughed so hard when I took a picture of the strawberries he had for sale that tears ran down his cheeks. Turns out they were from Portugal. There was the lady standing outside a sandwich shop holding a beautiful bouquet of orange and yellow flowers that brightened up the rainy day.

I am choosing to hold these memories of Nice. I will hold those people and all the brave people of Nice in my heart.

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Photos

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Memories of Nice

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Flower lady

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Quiet street in Nice

Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

The brave people of Nice
I'm glad you weren't there when it happened. It is so sad.

[Mary]

Beautiful
Beautiful sentiment and beautiful photos, Carolyn!