Last weekend, I was sitting in a restaurant in Petionville, having a late dinner. We were too lazy to cook, and hadn't been grocery shopping recently anyway. There is a place that makes really excellent
fresh Italian pasta (the owner is from Rome).
We had finished eating when the guy tending the bar approached our table. He was smiling broadly. He showed me a studio photograph of a plump, healthy infant. He said, do you remember this baby?
I said, I'm sorry, she is lovely, but I have no idea who this is.
He said, don't you remember October 31st?
I apologized again. I really didn't remember. I felt badly because he was standing there, still smiling expectantly. And clearly a proud father.
But come on. We deliver a thousand babies a month, on average. In October, it was about 1600. I can't remember them all!
Then he said, she was born in the intersection. You pulled her out of the car, and I walked with you to the hospital.
Dans le carrefour. Yes, I do remember this child! Of course! From a car in the middle of the intersection, after wading through traffic. The car broke down, he said. Her mother delivered in the back seat.
It is so satisfying to see a Jude Anne baby later, doing well. In October, we were in full assembly line mode because it was so busy. Sometimes we forget that they grow and develop and have futures,
because we aren't there to follow it. But of course, they do. And the parents don't forget.