The “Big Mike”
A Cherished Legend in Three Episodes (concluded)

The story’s pretty good as it stands, but I did drop one shoe by mentioning the third episode, which took place half a decade later. I was going to wait to write this bit up until its proper place in the chronology, but maybe I’d better do it now:

Episode 1968: Our little family was back living at 3, rue de Lota, to help President Grandpappy finish his mission after Mammy’s death. Young Elder Mitt Romney was then Pappy’s Assistant (approximately the same assignment as Graham Dodd had had in 1961). One day, Pappy called Mitt and me to his office and assigned us to take the Mission’s Peugeot to Belgium to pick up a load of copies of the Book of Mormon, inasmuch as our supply had run short in Paris.1

Mitt drove, and I talked, regaling him with tales of the sweet, laid-back Liégois and their even sweeter pastries, ice cream, and other such goodies. With emphasis on the joys of the Maison Poirier in Seraing: he got what I then remembered of Episode 1963, above, and it was soon clear that we’d do our best to pay Poirier a visit that very evening.

By the time we arrived in Seraing, it was getting dark. I had only a crude recollection of our destination (mainly that two trolley-tracks crossed there), and so we lost some more time in driving around hunting for it. At last, there it was! We parked and approached the door, only to read the sign:
“Fermé”.2 Through the shop windows, we could see the Poirier family seated at a couple of pushed-together tables, enjoying their repas familial at the end of a working day.

Disconsolately, we turned toward the Peugeot, only to hear Poirier’s voice:
“Mais entrez, quand-même!” We did so, gratefully, and the family made room for us at their table. Poirier made each of us a Big Mike (not inquiring, of course, whether that was what we wanted: ça allait sans dire), and then he retrieved a large Val St-Lambert crystal bowl full of missionary cards. Fished around for a minute and handed me mine, which I’d left in 1963. Then he said, “Mais je ne connais pas ce monsieur-ci; veuillez me le présenter.”3 I introduced Mitt; he added his card to the bowl; and we chatted with the family. By the time our Big Mikes were gone, each of us had a fresh one, without asking.

The time for departure came, alas, and I fished for my wallet. Poirier’s brow furrowed:
“Ce n’est pas de la commerce, ici! C’est de l’accueil!”4
1All the Church’s French-language printing was still being done in Liège, in those days.
2Or was it “Fermée,” as in “La Maison Est Fermée”? Can’t remember, for the life of me.
3Yes, not only did Poirier recognize me, having met me only twice, five years earlier, but after meeting so many missionaries, he knew instantly that he hadn’t met Mitt!
4We Anglophones desperately need an equivalent to this wonderful French expression. “Welcome” and “hospitality” approach it from the right direction, but without its distinctive Gallic warmth. At root, it’s akin to their words for “harvest” and “gathering.” What we call “reverence” they call “recueillement.”

There’s more to the story of this trip, but I’ll save the rest for that part of the record.
Back a Page
(Journal)
Such a Life
Contents
First Mission:
section start
First Mission:
page index
Paris:
page index
Next Page
(Journal)
Welcome Stories Sections Such a Life People Places Site Search Do You Know?
Updated Aug 2014 [135cBigMike.htm] Page 32-163