Ella skipped toward France’s beloved Louvre Museum dressed in a classic French look of a white cape and beret. I pondered how to prepare this precocious nine-year old for the world’s greatest collection of art she would soon encounter.
Do I shelter her? Cover her eyes? That seemed hypocritical. Two years before, Ella traveled with me on a mission trip to Costa Rica. She witnessed extreme poverty and embraced a different culture. She opened the eyes of her soul. Do I now tell her to shut them tight? Yet, I cringed at memories of her older sister’s first visit to Paris, involving three young teens, selfies, and nude art. I braced, Ella, you will see amazing things. Take it in, giggle all you want, but ask questions. Exasperated, she peered at me, pulling down enormous sunglasses she had purchased on the street near Sacré Coeur. She rolled her eyes as only Ella can. Room after room gave way to hundreds of necked men, women and cherubs. A mom’s nightmare. A teacher’s ideal classroom. We should’ve stayed in the gift shop. Ella’s hand gripped mine as we pushed through hordes of visitors. When we finally elbowed our way toward Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Ella considered thoughtfully. Glancing left and right, she studied faces of foreigners and shrugged her shoulders. Mama, they don’t get it. It’s pretty, BUT look behind us. They are missing that! The incredible Wedding Feast of Cana stretched across the opposite wall, illustrating countless stories. Secretly thrilled at her perceptive nature, I maneuvered her towards another gallery. I was feeling optimistic. In fact, this was going quite well. Suddenly, Ella gasped, horrified. She hissed, What is baby Jesus doing to that woman? Who paints babies kissing boobs? I laughed loudly, making her angrier. I whispered explanations that she too nursed as a baby. Ella made a face I had never seen before and stalked towards an impressive landscape of thousands of dying horses on ancient battlefields. Without warning, Ella reached across velveteen barriers, pointing to the twisted stallions and touching this 300-year-old painting. She simultaneously tripped 300 silent sensors. Screaming security rushed our way. Oblivious to this immediate chaos, she marveled at me. Mama, look at this one! So many different faces on those horses! It’s a good thing I speak French.
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JoAnna Arnold
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