Personal Narrative: America's Biggest

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“Hey let's go to the cafe with the pink roof”, I pointed as my friends and I waded through the precarious poodles through the cobblestone road. We were all eager to retreat from the drewery weather, into a warm lit cafe. The nine of us were what you could call “stereotypical American tourists.” Yelling loudly, carrying oversized bags and wearing bright colored clothes. We wanted to find a cafe that had wifi so we could all have internet to post our excessive vacation food pictures, I however was just interested in eating a chocolate crepe and sitting a warm cafe with my friends in a picturesque small French town. So we all slipped out of the drizzly weather, into the cafe as we removed our jackets and wiped down our feet. We meandered through the cramped seats and discovered an aromatic smell that radiated throughout the cafe. The burning coffee beans, the sweet frosting and the smell of rich cocoa: made me never want to leave France. We all found our seats, smiling from ear to ear ready to dig into our delicious French desserts. As we reminisced on all events of today’s tour, it dawned on me. I ran out of Euros. All I had was my credit card and 40 US dollars, the rest of my money was left in the safe in the hotel, more than 30 kilometers away from our little cafe. So I raised my hand and asked the waiter if the…show more content…
This question has frankly dogged me for the past 10 years. It finally clicked, like hands of a clock falling in line, as I stood under the gloomy French drizzle. My name obviously means God has set my path. But it also doesn’t mean that my path is simple and straightforward. If anything, it means that my path will have some winding roads, and yes there will be rain. But the path, I am on is ultimately the only path for me. Just as my journey through Saint-Malo, my sometimes will not bring me into the destination I want, however it will bring me to the destination that I need to be
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