We Heart Art

I am participating in the We Heart Art carnival hosted by The Three Bay B Chicks, Domestically Challenged and Helene of I'm Living Proof that God Has a Sense of Humor. The following article is one I wrote for a competition.

Our short break to Paris was going wonderfully. The weather was perfect, everyone seemed pleasant, and we were just leaving the Musee Du Louvre, our 7th item on our personal ‘Top Ten Things to Do’ in Paris. As we exited the cool museum into the sunny and surprisingly warm March afternoon, I reached above my head to pull down my glasses; instead my hand touched something slimy and wet. A pigeon had relieved himself on me. When I managed to make it to the washrooms I found that it was far worse then I had thought with it running down my hair, on my glasses, face and coat. Kirsten finally managed to stop laughing and said ‘Well it is supposed to be a sign of good luck’.

And perhaps it was...Number eight on our list was Notre Dame, so we crossed the river to the Ile De La Cite, a tiny island in the middle of the city. We were quickly sidetracked from our objective as we gazed in awe at the impressive architecture all around us, and it was only the eventual ringing of the bells in the church tower that called us to continue our search. The bells continuous peal wrapped around us as we took in the awe inspiring gothic building that is so very famous and it truly took our breath away.People appeared to be continuing into the church and we thought it would be fantastic to see what wonders could be found within.

When we got closer to the front of the line I remembered it was Palm Sunday, and to mark the occasion each person entering the church was handed a palm branch. The pigeon came to mind as we were ushered in and the door shut tightly behind us. We were the last people allowed in!Inside was much darker than the brilliance of the outside, and as our eyes adjusted we were pushed and prodded through the crowd of people inside, who had been drawn to the site as we had been, and suddenly we found ourselves on the other end and surprisingly in the front. Again the pigeon was a thought as the entire pastoral procession walked by us, so close that we could touch their robes if we wished, so close that we could feel the heat from the flames of the candles as they passed.Then, from above, an organ broke into song and a single voice rose to meet it and suddenly it wasn’t just about us and our experience, it was everyone in the church and everyone who had been before in an event that can never be repeated...