A Little Girl In The Middle Of Nowhere Lost Her Happy Thought

It was coming down on the heads and hats of people asking information to the coachmen of the parked cab,

in that rough night out, near Ladurée House.

In the meantime in the glittering salon,

Madame Tussauds and Rev. Dumas

had already decided on where and how

little Jean Baptiste

would spend his first Christmas.

- The orphanage?! ... Oh my God, Madame! ... And you, Mr. Reverend! ... Christ! ... That's a terrible place!

Mary Jane had so voiced her anger, which was now unstoppable.

You should tell your daughter she ought to not use the Lord's name in vain!

Rev. Dumas promptly replied with

this catchphrase.

And you, Reverend Father... Shouldn’t you do good deeds?

The beautiful and brave little girl said with a trembling and fearful voice.

Mary Jane, shut up! Go to your room! Nooooow!!!

Madame Tussauds blurted out, possibly becoming more

ugly than usual and red as a pepper.

Mary Jane, although little, was well acquainted with the nastiness and pettiness of the adoptive Stepmother...

So in a heartbeat, she grabbed the cradle

and ran out!

She ran breathless as fast as she could,

towards the light of the Full Moon.

She ran a long time, without knowing

where to go and not knowing what to do,

nor why she had done

that gesture so clumsy and stupid.

The snow was still falling in white and quilted big flakes, as dancers for a music box overturned in the sky.

Dancers who, with their skirts, cover and swell

of a kind of bridal white

all the roofs and the streets of Paris.

So, in this story, in this long night,

there are still white flakes of white snow falling incessantly and creating an unbreakable and inexplicable connection

between Mary Jane’s and

Jane Baptist’s hearts.

Exactly this connection, which arises from

a past lived at the orphanage for her,

and a future snatched to the orphanage for Jean Baptiste.

Exactly this connection set out

under the light snowflakes

shortly before Christmas in Paris.

This unique and unspoken connection,

this embrace as fugitives.

Like a flake

tightened in this strange story,

it was author of a great little miracle.

On that night like two fugitives,

they found shelter in a barn, a stable,

among cows and lots of animals.

Clear is that the little girl did not know what to do. For the cold and for feeding the little Jean Baptiste, but above all she did not know how to make him stop crying and screaming!

So, a bit for the cold and a bit for