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la grande rencontre

February 27, 2009

My husband and I met when I was still in high school.  Insert blush here.  I was a junior in high school, and we were going to do an exchange program with my French class.  I had signed up to receive a student, and spend about an hour pouring over the ‘application’ forms looking for the right one.  I think that by the time I signed up to get a student there were maybe two left.  My parents let me have both of them at our house.

The girls came, fun was had, and about halfway through their trip I realised that I was stupid for not going on the France leg of the trip.  See, I had signed up to host students but not to go to their homes in France.  By luck and a minor miracle, I was able to sign up at the last minute to go to France and stay with one of the girls.  About half of my French class was going.  And for weeks it was the most exciting thing, waiting for this trip.  With hindsight, in high school everything was so emotionally charged, so dramatic.  It kind of felt like we had all found something that we were looking for, we had all been given something to look for.

After a looonnnnggggg plane trip across the Atlantic, the Charles de Gaulle airport and about an hour and half car trip we made it.  My exchange student lived with her mother and little brother.  Our first week in France went by quickly.  The first weekend coincided with Easter, and my students older brother came down from Paris to spend the weekend with his family…

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