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by mystery writer D-L Nelson by signing up at the top right of this page.
I will never be a grandmother.
I remember when my parents lived in a retirement community in Florida when children and grandchildren visited it was almost a status symbol.
The same is true of my friends in Argelès-sur-mer. Grandchildren abound during the summer months. I am not jealous but joyous that I can get to know these wonderful young people.
A, a Brit, has visited his grandmother many times. The first time I saw him he was still in grade school and swimming in her pool, a well-behaved but active little boy. Over the years I've seen his poise at his grandfather's funeral, social events and interfacing with people from many countries.
He has done well in school, although he will be relieved when he receives the results of his A levels next month. His plans are to go to the University of Bath and he is leaning toward the sciences.
His knowledge on many subjects, including politics and history, goes deeper than many adults I've met.
His kindness to his grandmother knows no limits.
Talking with him is a pleasure.
We sat the café this morning with this 17 year old. He lives in the States, is bi-lingual and a senior in high school. He talked about how he has researched universities, his goals and how he hopes to attain them. He ruled out places where students talked about parties and ways to get by without much work.
He wants to be a doctor. As a young boy he lived with a father who hovered near death for far too long until a medical solution could be found. Now he and his father do triathlons and swim races together.
He is well aware that his background is privileged, and his parents want to make sure he experiences the realities of life as well. At an intellectual level he knows this but he wants the experience.
His eyes light up when he talks about his plans. He is good to his grandmother, an exceptional woman in her own right.
That a teenager and a woman in her seventies have had a chance to know each other on a deeper level than a visit within the confusion of a family is a gift to both of them.
And to share a coffee and conversation, is also a gift to me.
When I look at these two border-line men, I have hope for a future despite the chaos of the world. They may not change the world, but I am sure that for those around them, they will make the world a happier and hopeful place.