France is my father’s homeland. He was born in Strasbourg, and lived in Paris at one point as a child, running away from Nazis hellbent on destroying Europe.

My father left Europe as a teenager and became an American citizen; however, France was never far from memory.

I  share the same uncommon surname as distant relatives who still live in Paris. We are part of a different branch of our sprawling family tree. We don’t know each other, but I send hope for peace and safety.

Prayers of strength to the people of dear,  beautiful Paris – home of my ancestors. Home of many who are in pain. You are strong.