“My Small Life.”

Several years ago we were in Paris somewhere where near the department stores, holding hands and angling off into neighborhoods unknown when we came upon a small square that dated back to before the Napoleons. The surrounding streets flowed decisively toward the square, recognizing that the town square was a destination and an attraction, before it was subsumed by Paris sprawl. An ancient church was posted among the cobblestones like a sentinel and since we like to go inside churches, we walked up the threshold.