On my first trip to Paris the one place I never made it to was Montmartre and to Sacre Ceour, I thought I should save something to explore the next time I had my feet on those amazing Paris cobblestones.  As I departed Paris and tried to hold back all the tears, little did I know that day that I would be back in just four short weeks and that trip to Sacre Ceour would happen in a way I could have only dreamt about a few short months before.

While talking to a friend one day, he said they had spent the day at Montmartre and it was his favorite area of Paris, and that when I come back he would take me there and show me. So on a clear and cool Sunday night in November we drove through Paris, passing the lit up Notre Dame de Paris, Place de la République and the Moulin Rouge and then all of the sudden you see the white stones of the Basilica Sacre Ceour. It was late, the streets were empty and it was like we had it all to ourselves. No tourists snapping selfies or looking for the sites they have seen in Amelie, it was a quiet church that just happens to be one of the most recognized in the world. Inside the Basilica they were in the midst of mass so we quietly walked through admiring the interior, well that is until I almost ran into a wall and we both couldn't stop laughing that is.

Outside and in front of the Basilica is a long set of steps, but instead of looking down, look straight out. In front of you is all of Paris. She was lit up as far as you can see, the golden dome of Les Invalides, Notre Dame de Paris and the sparkling of La Tour Eiffel stand out like jewels that dot the horizon. All around us young couples were kissing on the steps, teenagers dancing and listening to music and all I could do was  truly appreciate the beauty that was in front of me and overlooking all of Paris, I would have thought I was in the middle of a dream.  

When my grandparents went to Paris, my grandfather fell in love with the village that seems so far from Paris and bought some paintings from the many artists that make Montmartre their home. I now look at that painting of Sacre Ceour every single day and I remember that truly perfect night that only had  just started at this beautiful church that translates in English to Sacred Heart. I am glad I saved my first trip to Sacre Ceour for that night, and further proof that everything happens for a reason.