On November 13, while 29 weeks pregnant, I embarked on my first solo international flight to Paris. My husband was there for a business trip, and I had planned a brief getaway for us to enjoy before welcoming our baby. We spent the day exploring the city, indulging in crepes and macarons, and taking in the beautiful sights.
That evening, as we debated which dessert to choose at a late dinner, my phone buzzed with a notification. A friend had tagged me in a post sharing a news article, inquiring about my safety. Confused, I clicked the link and discovered reports of a shooting in Paris. I quickly assured my husband that we were fine, but a sense of unease began to settle in. Little did we know, this was just the beginning.
Once back in our hotel room, our phones lit up with messages from concerned family and friends, all wanting to confirm our safety. The news was grim—multiple attacks had occurred, and the casualty numbers were rising. We posted on social media to reassure everyone we were as safe as we could be, staying up late to watch the news updates. Initially, we felt secure.
However, as we turned off the television and said goodnight, a wave of fear washed over me. In the stillness of the night, my anxieties grew louder. I was overwhelmed with the thought of not being able to return home, of possibly never meeting our son. I wept for those whose lives had been irrevocably changed. My husband held me tightly, sharing in my fear while trying to comfort me. That night, our love for each other and our unborn child felt more profound than ever.
The following day was spent mostly in our hotel room, grappling with the staggering loss of life. I read articles seeking answers to the violence, but instead, I found stories of resilience and kindness. I learned that Paris’s motto is “Fluctuat nec mergitur,” which translates to “tossed but not sunk.” As we ventured out for food, the atmosphere felt heavy, yet there was a palpable defiance. Parisians were still enjoying their time in cafes and assisting one another, demonstrating a spirit of kindness that seemed even stronger than before.
By the end of the day, it became clear that Parisians embodied their motto. Through personal interactions and countless stories of those who helped each other, it was evident that this city was resilient and steadfast.
When our son is old enough to understand, I want to impart the lessons from that harrowing weekend. We witnessed tragedy but emerged with a deeper appreciation for each other and the love within our small family. We encountered individuals whose lives had been altered, yet they displayed unbreakable strength. I want to teach my son that, while he cannot escape the presence of hate and tragedy, he can learn to recognize the good that persists amid adversity. Perhaps he can become a beacon of hope himself, embodying the spirit of Paris’s motto. I hope he learns to fight against life’s challenges, remaining strong and unyielding.
I know that day changed my life, just as it has for countless others experiencing fear daily, even in their own homes. This tragedy is just one of many occurring worldwide. I aim to teach my son not to take safety and freedom for granted. My goal is to live by Paris’s motto, ensuring that when life tosses him into turbulent waters, he will not sink.
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In summary, my experience in Paris during the attacks was transformative. I learned the significance of resilience, love, and the importance of finding goodness in the face of adversity. I hope to instill these values in my son, preparing him to navigate both challenges and joys in life.
Keyphrase: Resilience in Adversity
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