It was early May 2002. We had been in Brazil for a year and a half and, after a heavenly year of language school, surrounded by fellow missionaries and wonderfully supportive Brazilians, we had been shipped off to the back side of nowhere. We had been there for about 7 months and I hit a crisis point.
My dear mother-in-law sends me books and at this particular time I was reading what is referred to as a "culinary mystery"--a Miss-Marple-type mystery wherein the starring sleuth happens to be a chef who provides detailed descriptions of wonderful gastronomic creations. These should be read sparingly, because you always want to eat when you read them. Anyway, this particular sleuth was a chocolate confectioner. Day after day, I read descriptions of these amazing chocolate creations that, eventually, would aid in the capture of a murderer.
A week or so into my reading, it became time to shop for Mother's Day presents. I had waited too long to send anything from Brazil and so I went online. Godiva seemed the obvious place to start and so I spent several hours pouring over the Godiva, See's and Hershey's sites aiming to please two mothers and two grandmothers.
It was at that point I hit the crisis. I missed good chocolate. I missed a lot of things. I wanted to GO HOME! As Mother's Day got closer and closer, I got sadder and sadder. Then God did something for me I'll never forget.
A sign appeared in the median across from our apartment building: "Delicias de Paris" had opened. Two chocolate confectioners schooled in France had, upon graduation, decided to move to the back side of nowhere and open a chocolate shop. They specialized in truffles of all sorts.
My husband found it and on Mother's Day I received a half a pound of the best truffles I've ever had.
To be continued next post
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