Meet the Parents

By Christian

Meeting your girlfriend’s parents for the first time is always an interesting adventure. I met Christine’s Mom first.
For the Spring break 75, I drove Christine home, about 4 hours North of Montpellier. Her hometown, Le Creusot, was 45 minutes from the highway.
It allowed me to discover the beautiful country side. Rolling green hills, Charolais cows grazing (Gosh, my mouth was watering at the thought of the meat!), vineyards everywhere. I had heard about Burgundy wines of course, but I’d never had the chance to taste any.  I‘d never seen such landscapes and so much grass, so green, in my whole life either.

Then, there we were, in front of the large house; her Mom welcomed me as a family member right away.
It was a typical French home, as I’d imagined it. It was the first time in almost 5 years that I was welcomed into a French household!
We were right on time for lunch. Passing through the kitchen, I saw that Charolais steaks were on the menu. Christine must have tipped off her Mom! As a starving student, I was craving solid meat.
What I didn’t know, at the time, was that Christine’s Mom was very well known for letting things burn. So, this time, when she thought the steaks were done, she very carefully covered them, and they arrived almost boiled in my plate. Arghhhh! What a disappointment! I almost cried and couldn’t resist giving the one who would be my Mother in law her first cooking lesson. She still cooks steaks the way I taught her, good girl.
Then coffee arrived, and she had to have her second lesson!
She didn’t kick me out right away this time. A few months later, while visiting Christine in Montpellier, she told me coldly: “I am pretty happy to visit my daughter and to kick you out of her bed!” OK, got the message.

Later that summer, Christine and I were both working as waiters in a restaurant in Aigues Mortes, a very touristic medieval town. St Louis had left for his crusade from Aigues Mortes in the 12^th century! Christine’s parents were vacationing in the area and wanted to meet me. Christine took a few days off to be with them. They came at lunch time, at the height of the tourist season, when it was quite busy. I saw them coming and left my tables and customers to chat with them for a few minutes, wearing my waiter’s black pants and white shirt.
In my eyes, Christine’s Dad was the typical tourist, sandals (with socks), shorts, camera around his neck, the whole deal.

His gaze bored into me, weighing me in five seconds. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the report of his analysis on the spot.
Little did I know that he was the C.E.O of a huge factory. He had forty engineers in his engineering department, and thousands of workers. Among other things, they were manufacturing nuclear plants.
The main owner of the factory was one of the richest men in France, no less than Baron Empain, heir of the Schneider family.
Only when Christine’s Dad offered me a tour of the factory a year later did I figure out he was no ordinary tourist.

He had to train me for many years to learn a bit of Burgundy wines tasting. It was tough training. I feel sometimes I should go back to these sessions, as I truly enjoyed them.

In almost forty years, I have gotten to know them quite well. They have been Catholics their whole lives, never faltering. The house they live in now is a nice manor, always open to all. They are very generous, very devoted, and ready to help whoever knocks on their door. At some point they welcomed many Cambodian refugees who were fleeing the Pol Pot regime. Theses families were always visiting, staying. Christine’s Dad would find them jobs, they would get established in the area. Now their children call them Grandpa and Grandma and come visit with their own children. Yep I love my in-laws.

Instructors Interview: How Did You Meet?

by Ryan and Sarah, 1st part

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Ryan:  It was March 12, 2004 – my birthday.  I ran to the mailbox expecting a thick envelope from Notre Dame accepting me into their Alliance for Catholic Education (ACE) program.  Nothing.  Disappointed, I went into my apartment, hit play on my answering machine, and half listened to a series of birthday wishes.  The last one grabbed my attention:  “Happy Birthday, Ryan!  This is the principal at St. Marianne School.  Just calling to wish you a happy birthday and tell you how excited we are to welcome you to the City of Angels this fall.”  So I was accepted after all!  I would be quitting (what I once considered) my “dream job” as an internal auditor at the University of Notre Dame in order to answer God's call to the vocation of teaching.  After taking summer classes, my guardian angel would accompany me to the “City of Angels,” where 32 fourth graders awaited my arrival.  “This is big,” I thought.  But little did I know, God was orchestrating something even bigger.

4th grade in L.A. after soccer practice

Sarah:  I was preparing to graduate from college with a degree in education but felt the call to service.  Notre Dame's ACE program seemed to be a perfect fit.   

It would allow me to serve in an under-resourced Catholic school while still beginning my teaching career and, as an added bonus, I would be earning my Master's degree as well.  I had applied and interviewed and was simply waiting for notice.  Because I was not the typical candidate (I would already have a degree in education), I was a little concerned about my chances.  Spring break arrived.  I played on my university's tennis team and we were leaving for a trip to Hilton Head Island for a week of matches.  Just as I started to get in the shower, one of my roommates yelled that the mail had arrived and I had a packet.  I only had about 30 minutes to make the team van but I raced downstairs to see what awaited me.  I was accepted to the program and felt so grateful for the chance to fulfill my heart's desire of teaching and service.  What I didn't know was that letter would also be the start of another “call” from God. 

Ryan:  In late April, ACE hosted a weekend retreat for the new class and their principals.  After a weekend full of meetings and social events, I was sure I had met everyone.  The final event was a Sunday brunch in the North Dining Hall.  I got up from my table to head toward the buffet, when I spotted her.  She was sitting alone, waiting for the rest of her table to return with their food.  I thought, “Wait!  Who is that?!  Why haven't I met her?”  She was beautiful and had a mature, poised presence about her.  She seemed older than the other “ACErs”.  (Keep in mind, I was the “old guy”.  Most were right out of undergrad, while I had been out for 6 years.)  But that was the end of the weekend, and I would have to wait another month to find out the identity of this mystery girl.  The first day of classes, I made it a priority to figure it out.  Her name was Sarah, and she would be teaching in Biloxi, Mississippi.  Perfect!  My randomly assigned summer roomate was also headed to the Biloxi community.  There's my in!

Our whole "carpool" group

Sarah:  ACE Summer began and it was a full load.  As “first years” (it was a two year program) we not only had to take plenty of classes but also complete student teaching.  Besides having every single class together, Ryan and I were assigned the same school for our student teaching.  There were a total of five of us at the school and we would take turns driving each day so we could all carpool.  Naturally, when you spend required teaching and class time with people, you also start eating meals and socializing with them.  Meals would end and everyone would be outside the dining hall talking and suddenly Ryan and I would find ourselves alone, still chatting on the steps.  Ryan wanted to see how he matched up with a Division I tennis player and challenged me to a match (he lost and still does every time we play!).  I was also an avid runner.  He pretended to enjoy jogging as well and actually went with me one day (8 years later, that is still the ONLY time he has jogged with me!).  One night I had to go pick up my car from my parents house.  I asked Ryan to give me a ride half way there.  Halfway turned into having dinner at my parents house, meeting them for the first time, and a movie – our first date!  Surprisingly, after taking him to my parents house on our first date, Ryan asked me to “go out” again.  Eventually, we found ourselves spending some time near the gorgeous Our Lady of Lourdes replica grotto on campus.  It was here, under the watchful eye of our Blessed Mother, where we had our first kiss. (to be continued...)

Our first photo

Instructors Interview: How did you meet?

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Christian and Christine (from Christian's side)
As an International Business student, I had been working for the previous four years at the opera in Montpellier, France. It was a unionized place that allowed students to work there, for a meager pay.
In 1974 I still had two more years to go to complete my masters degree. The Fundamental Physic Group in Berkeley was reviving the Quantum entanglement theory, and Uri Geller was psycho/psychic binding forks and spoons. Peace and Love was still the motto in student circles.
That afternoon, after less than a couple of hours of work at the Opera, I was stuck in there with nothing to do, but as union dictates whether you have work to do or not you have to stay for four hours.
To my great surprise and for the only time in my six years there total, the boss came to me and asked me to keep for two hours the art gallery hosted in the Opera, for double pay.

“Sure,” I said, “no visitors and nothing to do? I can handle that.”
He was wrong; I had one visitor. I was diligently looking at the pictures in Time Magazine, and here came my one and only guest.

November 74 issue

She got all my attention: young, very young, and cute. I immediately noticed the American clothing, deep America I should say. Long brown hair, an out of place look, and an unfamiliar accent. I thought she was Canadian at first; I quickly learned that she was from Burgundy, France, just back from the States.
Small talk, invitation to join me at 6:00 pm to go to the student cafeteria across the Opera for dinner (I wasn’t paying for her dinner).
She was very nice, easy to talk to, happy to have somebody to talk to, fun, innocent. After dinner I showed her the old city. 

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I could feel that she wasn’t 100% at ease with a 22 year old wolf preying on a young demoiselle in the dark streets at night. 

Only when I left her at her bus did we exchange our names!

We didn’t exchange addresses, nor phone numbers, there was no next appointment. It was as if we knew we’d just meet again because it was meant to happen.
Just like it was meant to happen that we had met that afternoon….
What we didn’t know, though, is that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, have five daughters, experience a strong conversion and come back to the Church, have ten grandchildren and counting, and dedicate our lives to the Lord! Wow.
We traveled to many countries together, left everything behind to follow our calling, left our job, house, relatives, friends, and finally our country to work exclusively with engaged couples, funny, huh?
We didn’t see that coming but we are sure very happy it happened.

Instructors Interviews: How Did You Meet?

Christine and Christian (from Christine's side)

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It all started on November 27th, 1974.  We didn’t know it at that time, and it took us 37 years to realize it, but it was the anniversary of the Miraculous Medal (there must be something with the Miraculous Medal in our family! See Mattie's story). Mary was watching over us.

I was 18 ½.

My Senior Picture

I was just back to France from ten months in Indiana as an exchange student and my only thought was to go back. Sadly, my parents wanted me to be “reasonable” and to start some studies. I wasn’t in the least interested in studying, so I picked what seemed the least boring to me: art.  It was then decided that I would study art in Montpellier, France, where my aunt and uncle were willing to host me.

I moved in with them, in their basement, at the end of the Summer…
Time flew and it was already the end of November.

Wednesday morning November 27^th.
We had Wednesdays off, so I got up later that morning. For a reason I do not remember, I went upstairs and found myself face to face with my aunt. She started lecturing me about studying art without even visiting the city’s museums and art exhibitions. She knew there was a beautiful tapestry exhibition downtown and thought I should at least go and see it.

I understood she wanted me out, so I got on the bus and headed downtown.

I think I started by visiting a museum. I hate museums; I find them boring most of the time, and exhausting…  so I do not remember anything about it. I was just killing time. Then I decided to visit this tapestry exhibition my aunt had talked about. The tapestries were by Marc Saint Saëns (1903-1979). They were exhibited in the Opera’s gallery, Salle Molière, on the right side of the Opera (when you face it).

Montpellier's Opera

Entrance was free! There was no one but the keeper, a young man who was reading the Time Magazine! 

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All my thoughts being geared towards going back to the States, it struck me that he was reading the Time in English! He seemed nice, didn’t know anything about the tapestries, and was just keeping the gallery for the first –and only – time and from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. only. He had had no visitors at all. I was his first and only one! We talked a bit; I looked vaguely at the tapestries that I really didn’t care for!  

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I felt totally comfortable and safe with him, he didn’t look like a play boy at all with his huge thick glasses.

I was about to leave when he asked me if I wanted to come back at 6:00 to go to the university cafeteria with him... I said OK and went on to meet some of my school friends.

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It was dark already when I arrived back Salle Moliere. I felt a bit awkward, not being sure that he remembered inviting me, but there I was, and he seemed to remember! Together we went to the worst cafeteria in the whole town, but it really didn’t matter. Afterwards, he took me on a walking tour of Montpellier’s narrow medieval streets. I was a bit scared to be by myself in these dark streets with a total stranger, and excited at the same time that this older guy was actually paying attention to me! He walked the whole way holding his dark blue bike on the side. He was wearing a leather jacket that was kind of short for his long arms.  He had a charm about him, a casual and self-confident look that I found very attractive. Finally, he took me to the bus station for me to go back home and asked me what my name was! I told him my name was Christine and he told me he was Chrick, and that he was from Morocco! I remember being puzzled about this last statement, thinking that he didn’t look like a Moroccan! I was so ignorant, not even knowing that Morocco had been a French colony for a long time! 
As I got home, I was pretty excited inside and I remember telling my uncle I had met a really nice 22-year-old guy who would be a really cool big brother. We hadn’t even talked about seeing each other again, but my heart was happy and light! 

I've always wondered who in heaven was behind our meeting... Maybe Christian's mother who had died the previous year? It was so "improbable" that we ever met! Heaven opened up a short 2 hours window and it worked!
Since the first time I heard it when I was 15, this quote from François Mauriac, from the Académie Française, has always struck me, "We deserve all our meetings. They are granted to our destiny and have a meaning each of us must discover."