Doux Rêves: On Giving & Letting Go
Thursday, January 09, 2025
The world feels upside down when posting a giant ice cream cone in France while California faces devastating fires. Today’s story, written before reading the news, is shared with the hope of offering comfort. Life can feel completely out of our control, but we can keep faith and continue giving—however we’re led to give.
TODAY’S WORD: Doux rêves
: sweet dreams (noun)
The verb form is faire de bons rêves (to have sweet dreams).
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
The last Sunday of the year, I took a twenty euro bill and set off early for church. Before leaving, I rummaged through a cupboard for un sac fourre-tout…intent on filling it with flowers from the weekend farmers market, where you can get a beautiful bouquet for under 20 euros. My sister Heidi had suggested the gift for Mom and I didn’t want to let her down.
My husband often drives me and picks me up, which is as close to getting to church as he gets. But it’s not about being in church, it’s about serving others, something Jean-Marc enjoys, not that he’s always chipper about it.…
As we motor past the beaches, heading to le centre ville, I squint my eyes. “Up there, after le manège. Er…no. In front of Eden Theatre…Attends… just past La Chapelle des Pénitents,” I signaled to Jean-Marc. A slight grumbling on his part tells me it would be good if I could make up my mind. But, I’m just trying to estimate where, in a long line of market stalls, the flower stand is located.
You can let me out here! Merci. Je t’aime! I said, offering a quick wave goodbye before cars began piling up behind us. Crossing the street, I searched for the flower vendor. Past la rôtisserie and the clothing stands, past les culottes et soutien gorges, past the kitchen supplies …les fleuristes were nowhere to be seen. With no other options, I dragged my feet to church. That is when I saw the thin, tousled, unshaven man who sat accroupi not far from la savonnerie. An urge came over me to give him something. I thought about the 20 euro bill.
…coins would be better, even a five or ten, but before I could think further, my arm reached out and handed the man the folded bill intended for Mom’s flowers.
Le mendiant looked up, surprised. Non, he gestured, c’est trop.
Oui, I gestured back, pushing the bill into his hand. Accepting the money, he suddenly sprang to life, babbling on and on in an incomprehensible jargon.
Oh no, I thought, he’s drunk! He’ll surely lose the bill or, pire, waste it on a six-pack. What good will that twenty do him now? It will only worsen his condition! But you wouldn’t know my thoughts from my gestures. A smile was still frozen on my face as I walked off, waving it’s nothing, you’re welcome! C’est rien. But apparently it was something to me…
I hurried away, dismayed. Rounding the corner café and its giant ice cream cone mascot I wished my thoughts could be as innocent and sweet, instead of merdique!
There in the tiny église, amongst all the sourires, câlins, bises, I was tempted to vent about my run-in with the drunk beggar when suddenly I remembered some holy words: “When you give, don’t let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.” As my mind chewed on that thought, I settled into a seat near the heater, to learn about the Twelve Tribes of Israel and the Twelve Apostles. For the first time I began to connect (certain) dots between the Old and New Testament, but my mind could not focus further. I was still trying to connect the dots concerning the flowers, the beggar, the booze, my 20 and how it would be used…
Then it hit me! Just as we are not to let our left hand know what our right hand is doing when we give, IT’S NONE OF MY BUSINESS WHAT HAPPENS TO THE MONEY! Just as it’s only between God and me, when giving, it’s between God and the recipient, when receiving. That poor man can do what he wants with the measly twenty! It’s no longer my responsibility! Ah… What freedom there is, letting go of the outcome.
After church, I turned my phone back on only to find a text from my husband:
“Hi Beeb, c’est Max qui te récupère. J’ai fait des frites et carottes au four. J’arrive vers 12H45 💋” —“Hi Beeb, Max will pick you up. I’ve made fries and roasted carrots. I’ll be there around 12:45. 💋”
Jean-Marc was off riding his VTT, in preparation for his upcoming biking trek in Chilé (a side trip he’ll take before beginning his next wine mission in Argentina!). I waited at the curb for my son to pick me up, growing slightly aggravated when Max was twenty minutes late. But the blue sky, the sun's warm rays, and all the interesting people walking by made for an agreeable parenthèse.
Turning toward the cafe with its outdoor terrace, I noticed a tall man walking with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand and a smile on his face. On second glance it was le mendiant! So he hadn’t lost the bill… or used it for beer! Chances are he’d even had a bite to eat before ordering the coffee. I shook my head in appreciation: God’s little plot twist completely one-upped the story I’d drawn in my head.
Looking up at the sign, I noticed the unusual name of the café: ‘Sweet Dreams,’ or Doux Rêves if it were in French. It was a gentle reminder that we can rest easy when we follow a loving hunch and let go of the outcome. And, incidentally, this was just the outcome Mom would have preferred—a million times better than flowers. (Though we’ll get her a beautiful bouquet soon—I promise my sister!)
***
Flower market in Nice. Follow me on Instagram where Ricci and I are posting a daily photo/video this month of January! You'll also see updates from Jean-Marc's bike trek through Chile! Click here and be sure to hit follow.
COMMENTS
See a typo? Have your own story to share or simply want to leave a message? Click here to go to the comments box. Thanks in advance for taking the time to share.
FRENCH VOCABULARY
Sound File: My husband is now recording these audio clips while on the road in South America. Enjoy.
doux rêves = sweet dreams
un sac fourre-tout = a tote bag
le centre ville = downtown
le manège = the carousel
Eden Théâtre = La Ciotat’s historic movie theater, the oldest in the world
Attends = wait
La Chapelle des Pénitents = The Chapel of the Penitents
Merci = thank you
Je t’aime = I love you
les culottes et soutien gorges = panties and bras
les fleuristes = florists
la rôtisserie = the rotisserie
accroupi,e = crouching
la savonnerie = the soap shop
le mendiant = the beggar
Non = no
C’est trop = it’s too much
Oui = yes
pire = worse
C’est rien = it’s nothing
merdique = crappy
l’église (f) = the church
les sourires = smiles
les câlins = hugs
les bises = kisses
c’est Max qui te récupère = Max is picking you up
J’ai fait des frites et carottes au four = I made fries and roasted carrots
J’arrive vers 12H45 = I’ll be home around 12:45
le VTT (vélo tout terrain) = the mountain bike
une parenthèse = a pause or interlude
le café = the café
La Chapelle des Pénitents Bleus
REMERCIEMENTS/THANKS
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Un grand merci de nous avoir partagé votre vie ces dernières années. Même si je ne vous ai jamais rencontrée, j'ai l'impression de vous connaître grâce à l'ouverture de votre coeur à vos lecteurs. Que l'année qui vient vous apporte du bonheur! —Ginny R
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Thanks for this post today. It reminded me of my parents, who both passed away in the last 2 years. When they were in their late ‘70’s, I was shopping with them at a large grocery store. As we left, a woman approached us, asking for money. I guess we all felt we were being ambushed, and we shook our heads as we jumped in the car. My mom then said - no, we should give her something. So we drove around the parking lot until we found her, and my dad handed her a $20 bill. But as he did, he said “I hope you don’t spend it all on drinks”, and then rolled up the window and drove away. My mother was furious with him. She said it was not up to my dad to say how that money should be spent, and even if the woman spent it on drugs or drink, that was her choice. I always remember that - my mother’s idea of charity was that it should come with no strings, and we should not demean the recipient even further by suggesting they cannot choose how to spend our gift. It’s a lesson I still try to follow today. Thanks for reminding me of that.
Posted by: Cynthia | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 02:23 PM
Cynthia,
Thanks for sharing your story, vivid with detail. 💗 I can almost picture your lovely parents and the women they tried to help.
Posted by: Kristin Espinasse | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 02:54 PM
I was so relieved when you realized that your gift to the man was exactly that: a gift. The person will use it for whatever they need at the moment. Not ours to judge. You are a very kind person in so many ways, Kristin.
Posted by: Jennie | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 04:03 PM
Priests say that when you give to the destitute, you are serving Jesus in disguise.
Posted by: Teresa | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 07:55 PM
Beautiful heartfelt post, once again. The world needs more acts of kindness with no strings attached. Thanks for sharing your sweet story.
Posted by: Jill Ferrie | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 07:58 PM
I loved your post and the reminder that a gift shouldn't have strings attached. I am guilty of dreaming up scenarios in my head at times, and need to not make assumptions. I'm sure you were such a bright spot in that man's day with your generosity and kindness.
Posted by: Jan French | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 09:36 PM
I didn’t get the newest post. Signedup again but still looked everywhere but didn’t get it.
Posted by: Barbara friedman | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 09:49 PM
Merci, Kristi -- A lovely, insightful post and I learned a new word! I never tire of reading about your life in Provence. Meilleurs voeux pour une année pleine de joie et de paix.
Posted by: Ophelia | Thursday, January 09, 2025 at 11:43 PM
Dear Kristi,
Such a heartwarming example of your kindness…🤍
Posted by: Chris Allin | Friday, January 10, 2025 at 07:53 AM
Dear Kristi! I just love that you were given this opportunity to share your kindness. I imagine Jules enjoyed your story as much as I did. A good reminder that kindness doesn’t need validation. It’s about listening to our heart and being of service. The older I get, the better I have become at being generous in my giving. Thank you for sharing this heartfelt message which brightens up my day as a beautiful bouquet would.
Posted by: Stacy Lund | Friday, January 10, 2025 at 09:06 PM
I find it interesting that the French—with all their beautiful vocabulary and variety of words that are so perfect that we use them, untranslated (like hors-d'œvre, voilà, bon apétit, etc.)—can't come up with a better word for bra than soutien-gorges! Haha. I'm glad you were given "the rest of the story" with le mendiant, for your permanent peace of mind. Great story, as always!
Posted by: Mollie | Monday, January 13, 2025 at 05:00 PM
Kristi, I was so moved by this story. Many years ago, when I was 16, my parents took us to New York City (from Kansas) to visit and we took the Circle Line Ferry around Manhattan. While we waited in line, a beggar approached my dad and asked for money to get food. My dad said, "Let's go into the diner nearby and I will buy you what you want." He did so, and the man ate.
I asked my dad why not give the beggar the money, and he replied that the money might have been used for alcohol. I used to tell that story with pride, but as I have gotten older, I have begun to realize that my dad's action could be seen as patriarchal and untrusting. I have used this story to talk with my high school debaters about the complexity of restricted charity. The same thing occurs here in the states when we give food stamps as opposed to cash assistance.
Your story was uplifting and also a great example of letting go and trusting the person who receives the gitft. Thanks for that.
Posted by: Tim Averill | Tuesday, January 14, 2025 at 04:55 PM