a rainbow in the grey

On the way back from court I stopped by Cafe Genova for a little dose of sunshine. I'm always kind of happy when I see Maria through the window. Not only because she very quietly makes the best latte in Little Italy, but because she speaks such perfect Italian and reminds me a little bit of my own grandmother - but only in the way every old lady (regardless of their background) kind of reminds me of my grandmother. And I always pray my own Italian is going to be at least adequate enough to keep her from switching over to French in some kind of act of mercy. Let's just say I was a little rusty out the starting gate. I sais hello in French and actually answered in Spanish when she asked me how many sugars I wanted. I tried to explain that I just got back from Costa Rica and she smiled and told me that the languages were quite close anyhow. (Yes, where would I be right now were it not for my Broken Italian. Possibly still in Central America on some volcanic dirt road, would be my guess) Anyway, I assured her that somewhere inside me, there was a fluent four-year old just waiting for a three-month trip to Italy to show himself. She smiled and told me that anytime I wanted to practice, I could just stop by and have a coffee with her. And that little invitation made my day.