A Christmas Poem

'Unwrappable' Wishes

by Karline Kim G.

Santa used to ask me

“What do you wish, my dear?”

And I’ d get all excited

“Please lots of toys this year!”

Silently he’d chuckle

Then he’d say “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

He’d pick a package from behind

Wrapped nicely with a bow

But time has changed my wish

I’m older and wiser now

Yet my wishes have become

Impossible somehow

For how do you ask for joy

Wrapped in a ribboned gift

How could Santa ever take

The burdens you have to lift

How can you write a list

That to North Pole you’ll send

Wishing for peace on earth

For wars to have an end

How can Santa save a soul

With pieces all gone lost

How can his elves ever afford

To pay for a soul’s pricey cost

Can’t heal broken bodies

Put mended hearts under the tree

Santa can’t bestow forgiveness

Or set the captives free

If Santa asked me now

“What do you wish, my dear?”

I’ll give him a hug and say:

“I’d rather pray this year.”

Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays!

Land of Fairytales

Like many children, I grew up reading fairytales. Stories like The Ugly Duckling, Thumbelina, and The Snow Queen are intertwined with my childhood memories and as a child they inspired within me a sense of wonder of all the possibilities of life. What a world we live in! Such power and magic and beauty! My imagination ran wild and I recall the many times I perused those thick battered books of tales. Now, as an adult, that sense of wonder has been transferred to the man who had written many of them: Hans Christian Andersen. I no longer just admire the beauty of his work but the beauty of his mind as well. So when the Autumn chill could no longer be escaped, I decided to meet the coming winter by going up north to Denmark, the homeland of H.C. Andersen. A few days in Copenhagen was the perfect quiet city break I needed. I lazily strolled along the water’s edge in search of the statue of The Little Mermaid, sat at the famed Nyhavn harbor that is lined with colorful houses, and enjoyed the exciting air of the approaching Yuletide season with the twinkling lights that adorned the city. And with a spring in my walk and a fairytale in my heart, I explored the city where H.C. Andersen once lived. I leave you, dear reader, with a few pictures of my trip and this quote: 

“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float,

To gain all while you give,

To roam the roads of lands remote,

To travel is to live.”

-Hans Christian Andersen

                

Thanks for reading!

My Autumn

     I took a stroll in the park this week and autumn seemed to enfold me in its arms. It is a season that has such depth and which evokes much thought. So with camera in hand, I spent the afternoon in search of what autumn was to me.

Autumn is the richest shades of sunset,

It is that barren branch, and that lonely flower,

It is that reflection of something beautiful...

A lonely walk, a silent moment,

Autumn is the wet leaves upon the ground,

It is an empty bed of roses, a leafless arbor,

It is a nostalgic farewell,

It is death and beauty in one,

A lingering memory in the fading sunlight...

Autumn is the glorious dusk before the night of winter

Thanks for reading and enjoy the season!

Antique Books, French & a lot of Guessing

 

It’s an understatement to say I like books. I love them - adore them! Passionately. So when I travel, I make it a point to buy a book in the country I’m at. I buy completely random books, known or unknown, new or second-hand, and from whatever genre. For example, I bought sci-fi (my first and only sci-fi book) and classics in New York, a cheesy chick-lit in Krakow, a children’s book in Frankfurt (yup! totally random), and a book of ballads in Paris. And it’s my experience buying that book in Paris that I will be blogging about today. 

I had just been to Notre Dame Cathedral, climbed to the top to enjoy the view of Paris with Quasimodo’s sidekicks, and soaked in the history through a guided tour. I strolled around a bit when I stumbled upon a roadside bookstand selling old books. I couldn’t resist. After half-dragging my sister to the stand, I went through those beautiful books. 

         

Ah! Paradise. 

       

I knew exactly what I wanted but after a search I couldn’t find it.  There was only one thing left to do: ask for assistance. I approached the smiling salesman and with a friendly “Bonjour!” I asked him the only French sentence I knew: “Parlez vous anglais?” - I was asking him if he spoke English. I know. I know. I’m pathetic. But I’m pretty sure I got the accent down. I listened to the proper pronunciation and practiced online folks. I sound like a local. Ooo-k. Before you start thinking I’m delusional let’s continue with the story. As many of you might have guessed, the man said “No”...then he continued to speak in rapid French. I understood only the no part and smiled through everything else. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess what he said. I assumed he was asking me what I was looking for, so with  confidence I said “Victor Hugo”. Then he said something in French again and looked up at me questioningly, waiting for my answer. I then assumed correctly for the second time that he was asking for which particular work of Victor Hugo, so I replied “Paris du Notre Dame”, careful to say ‘Pari’ - that’s how the French say it after all. He exclaimed something in dismay and handed me Hugo’s book of poetry instead. I think that by this time I got the man convinced I understood French, even if I didn’t speak it. Then pushing my luck, I asked for a book by Jules Verne. By ‘asking’ I mean that I raised my eyebrows inquiringly while saying “Jules Verne” as French-ly as I could. The man exclaimed “Oui! Oui!” and handed me a slab-sized leather-bound book. I took it with a majestic “Oh là là!” The little Frenchman was delighted and repeated my “Oh là là” several times. That book cost a staggering €200! Oh là là indeed! I handed the book back and paid for my book of ballads. We said our thank yous and goodbyes, and our roads parted. 

 I’ll probably never see that man again, but what I find so wonderful is that our roads did cross and that for a brief moment in time two strangers who didn’t even speak the same language connected, and a memory was made that summer afternoon that I will remember and cherish. That’s the beauty of traveling...discovering that in a world of differences and strangers, you can find something that you can both smile and laugh about. 

Merci Beaucoup dear reader!

Give Paris a Chance

I can still remember the exact day. It was November 15, 2001 when I watched the movie “Passport to Paris” and fell madly and hopelessly in love with Paris. I mean, have you ever seen such a beautiful city?! And apparently, it’s a city where dreams come true. In movies people meet the love of their lives in Paris, previously hungry artists become the next big sensation, and everyone gets inspired there. Hello?! I have got to go there. ASAP. I had to. I had to. I had to! So I packed my bags, grabbed my passport and credit card and took a taxi to the airport. I checked the flights and booked the first flight out to Paris. Done! Ha! I wished I could have! But alas, I am but a mere mortal. I did not have the money lying around in some fat bank account nor did I have time as a school kid. Plus, I was still underaged. Drats! So there was only one thing left for me to do. I waited. 

 
More than ten years.  

 
More than T-E-N oh-my-goodness-how-long-do-I-still-have-to-wait years. 

 
It’s strange how waiting can multiply one’s expectations. Over the years my hopes and anticipation grew until it was this huge mountain of expectation. I continued to read about Paris, continued to watch movies set in Paris, and I continued to dream of Paris. I had this picture in my mind of how Paris should be and of what Paris would do for me. Yes, dear reader. Paris had to do something for me, like give me the best day of my life and if possible I wanted this experience to be wrapped up with a bow.Then the day finally came. I arrive at CDG airport and my feet touched Parisian soil. I immediately set out to explore the city in hopes of experiencing the BEST day of my life. 

 
It didn’t come. 

 
It was a cold and cloudy July day that promised me rain instead of my movie-script experience. It promised me rain for the next days as well. Great, just great. I saw the Eiffel tower, had a stroll along their avenues, and went to a Parisian cafe. Although I hated to admit it, but at the end of that first day I was disappointed (like several people I know). Paris did not live up to my expectations. It fell short in every way...and I only had myself to blame. Against that mountain of expectation no city in the world would have had a fighting chance. Not even Paris. I realized that as I went to bed at night and I promised myself that I would give Paris a chance. Delete all those romanticized scenes in my head, dash out all those false expectations, and just try to experience Paris as Paris is.

 
I went out the next day with new eyes and just allowed Paris to enchant me in its own time and way. No pressure. No picture in my mind. No crazy expectations. And Paris surprised me and enchanted me and wooed me until I discovered the magic that makes Paris one of the top destinations in the world. On my second day I went up the Eiffel Tower, saw the great works of art at the Louvre Museum and walked up the Champs Elysees until I was at the Arc de Triomphe at midnight. This was my  “Midnight in Paris”. No novel or movie could compare to what I saw and felt that day. It was my Paris experience and because it was personal, it was infinitely better. 

 
So if ever you plan to visit Paris, give it a chance. Don’t compare it to some fantasy in your head and don’t expect it to fulfill your every dream. Let Paris be Paris and I am sure it will be more than enough. 

Here are some pictures of my second day in Paris. Enjoy!

Thanks for reading!