Across the generations

When I first met Denyse Robertson, she was peering out from behind the barely-open front door to her home with a quizzical look on her face. I could not help but worry that, even with the best of intentions, my volunteering endeavours would meet a dead end if the woman I was matched with did not like me. My fears dissipated as soon as she opened the door wide and greeted me with the loudest “Bonjour!” I have ever heard. It was as if Denyse and I were old friends reunited after decades apart. A year later, I look forward to her “Bonjour!” every week.