Many years and many dreams ago, that little farm from my early adolescence had haunted me: it was Mrs. Calmette’s farm just two miles from a charming Medieval village in the Lot et Garonne, “Monflanquin”.  

It was a simple farmhouse built of stone with bright red shutters surrounded by a beautiful garden with shady trees overlooking the little perched village with its church bell tower rising proudly to the sky.

It was in July 1967, 54 years ago, when I first set foot in this part of France after two weeks in Paris and my painful departure from Saïgon, Vietnam. I was not yet 15 when my parents sent me off with my Godfather, Mr. Poulain and his daughter, Joëlle and niece Marie-Chantal.  

It was a long drive from Paris and I had no idea where we were going. It was summer and the landscape was so different from Vietnam, quite beautiful and green.

Upon our arrival at the farm, we were warmly greeted by Mrs. Calmette.  She was a small woman in her early sixties, energetic and smiling. She reminded me of my own grand mother and I liked her immediately. I remember well her grandson, Jean-Claude who was then fourteen and who spent lots of time with her at the farm, helping her with the few cows she had, chicken, ducks and rabbits. Besides the house my Godfather was renting from her, there was a proper farm attached to it with a stable and a big barn where the hay was stocked.  Right in front of the house, there was a tall lime tree with a swing which I called mine. 

Jean-Claude became our first French friend and I believe I was his favourite for he took me on a grand tour of the land on his tractor.  He even let me drive it. 

That year was a revelation for me, away from the noise and chaos of the war, I let the chirping birds and the mooing of the cows appease my own tormented and anxious soul because I was so far away from my loved ones. 

Life in this countryside was peaceful and everything was new and a discovery: the first grape harvest, the mushroom pickings, the first snow with its fun battles…in short, life on this farm has forever marked me!

My Godfather taught us at home, we had no friends and knew no one except for Jean-Claude and his grandma. Twice a week we went to Monflanquin, on market day and on Sunday to church. During the school year, Jean-Claude came to do his homework with us on Wednesdays. 

In 1968, after the Têt offensive in Saïgon, my parents were able to leave and they flew with my dear dog, Patoudoux, along with two suitcases to France.  They picked me up on an early morning in June and summoned me to leave as quickly as possible. I had no time to say “good-bye”.  Apparently my parents were very upset with my Godfather. I saw them arguing but couldn’t understand what they were saying.  My father drove us to Geneva in Switzerland where he had found a job. I was so happy to see and be with my parents and my pet again that I did not realize I left everyone behind and that in a few moments my life in Monflanquin was gone.

A beautiful chapter of my life suddenly stopped and since that day, I was cut off from my Godfather, the two girls, Mrs. Calmette and Jean-Claude. It is as if they had never existed.  My parents enrolled me in the best school in Geneva and my life drastically changed. I have since travelled the world, went to New York, Caracas, Mexico City, Saō Paolo, Fort Lauderdale, Singapore, Dubai and am now retired in Péret, France.

How often did my mind wander back to that little farm, thinking of Mrs. Calmette, Jean-Claude, my Godfather and Joëlle and Marie-Chantal. I have looked for them but to no avail. 

In May recently, we were invited by friends to Vannes in Brittany and on our drive back, I asked my husband if we could stop in….Monflanquin.  We did and as we were driving closer to the little village I was thinking: “is that farm still there?”  My husband pushed me to ask at the Mairie. One lovely lady gave me the name and phone of Mr. Marcel Calmette, Maire of Paulhiac, a village nearby explaining that he may be able to help me. It was 2:30 PM and the Maire was very attentive and told me he needed thirty minutes to make a few calls and find out if that farm still existed, especially after 54 years!  Sure enough, 30 minutes later, he called me back: “Your farm is still there, just like you’ve described it only 2 miles away on the road to Savignac.”  I am ecstatic, almost incredulous. We hopped in the car and headed in the direction I was given.  

From the corner of my eyes, I see it, the farm with its stonewall and vivid red shutters. The garden is impeccably maintained with beds of flowers but I don’t see the lime tree, instead a car is parked there. My heart is beating, a man comes out with his dog, puzzled. I approach with my little Sam, I am looking at him as I am getting closer and he is looking at me with a certain curiosity. I start telling him: “I am here because 54 years ago, I used to stay here and it was Mrs. Calmette’s farm. My Godfather …” He interrupts me: “Mr. Poulain, and you must be Juliette!”  I am gaping as I recognize his eyes “you are Jean-Claude!” Tears of joy are flooding in our eyes, we embrace each other and we are like two little kids that we were in 1967.  “The tree with the swing?” he tells me he had to cut it down10 years ago. Of course, his maternal grand mother, Mrs. Calmette had passed away since.  My husband and I are invited to come into the house. A few changes but it’s like in my memories. Jean-Claude shows me the barn transformed into a fishing atelier: “ Do you remember when we jumped in the hay and you didn’t know you were allergic to it?”  My husband was moved to see us reminisce about our childhood. How can you fill 54 years in just a few hours? I call back the Maire of Paulhiac and we decide to meet later in the afternoon.  Jean-Claude tells me he and his wife left the week before to a funeral and that his wife stayed with her family’s while he decided to come back home only two days ago. If, if,if…was it sheer coincidence? For me it was clear, it was meant to be.  

I am beyond grateful that this little farm is still there and that Jean-Claude who after a lifetime of living elsewhere in France,  inherited the farm and retired to Somewhere up there, Mrs. Calmette is watching and smiling!