From the Rector
from the rector
September 2008
One
night during the first week of our stay in France, in the village of
Dardenay, the lights in our gîte (rented house) suddenly all went
out and we were left in total darkness.
So,
there was nothing for it but to walk down the street and talk to
Madadme Marguerite, Emilie's cousin, who owned the gîte. She was,
of course, already dressed for bedtime and had to get ready before she
could answer the door.
Meanwhile,
I was trying to figure out how to describe the problem. My French is
strictly pidgin French (what the French call “Franglais”),
and Madame Marguerite speaks no English at all.
When
she finally opened the door, what came out of my mouth was
“Excussez-moi, Madame Marguerite, les lumières enla
maison, ils sont soudainement tout fini – POOF!”
(“Excuse me, Madame Marguerite, the lights in the house they are suddenly all finished – POOF!”)
It
was not good French, or good English. But said with enough desperation
and enthusiasm, with a good loud POOF, there was no difficulty in
understanding. She immediately understood the problem, came over, and
corrected it.
That
incident stands out, but there were lots of examples in our trip that
prove how much you can communicate in a language which you don't know
that well – if you really need to and want to.
Just
a thought as we think about conveying the message of our Lord's saving
grace to those who are strange to us and don't speak our
“language” of faith...
This is something we can do, if we have a sense of real urgency; if we want to, and need to, bad enough.
David
Garrett