Lauzerete and the Song of a Full Heart
After leaving Lascabanes, we continued to Lauzerte, a beautiful medieval village in the Tarn-et-Garonne region of southwestern France. We stayed at a charming place called Gîte Fleuri Le Tuc de Saint-Paul, where we met our host, Melanie.
Lauzerte itself has a wonderful history. Perched high on a rocky hill overlooking the rolling countryside of the Quercy Blanc, it has been an important settlement for centuries. Its origins trace back to a Gallic hilltop settlement, but the Count of Toulouse established a fortified town here in the late 12th century. The elevated position provided protection and a commanding view of the surrounding valleys.
As the town grew, it became an important center for trade and commerce, as well as a stopping point for pilgrims traveling the Camino de Santiago, the ancient pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Even today, pilgrims pass through its medieval streets, and the village retains much of its historic charm. Its beautiful central square, Place des Cornières, with its stone buildings and covered arcades, has been the heart of village life for hundreds of years. Lauzerte is now recognized as one of France’s Most Beautiful Villages.
We arrived early in the afternoon, before our host was ready to open our rooms at 3:00. Rather than rush us along, Melanie had thoughtfully left cold drinks and even some ice cream in the refrigerator for her arriving guests. We found a comfortable spot in the shade of the front yard and settled in to enjoy our refreshments while we waited.
It was there that I first heard her.
A woman was singing her heart out to 1980s music. I recognized the songs and knew the words myself. There was something so joyful and uninhibited about her singing that it immediately warmed my heart. I felt drawn to her before I had even met her.
The other thing I noticed was the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread. I eventually wandered over to watch Melanie at work. She was an artisan baker, and I soon learned that she had once baked all the bread for the village. Before long, she noticed me watching, and we began to talk.
Melanie hosted us during our stay, and as I got to know her, I discovered there was much more to her story than her singing and wonderful bread.
Life had not been particularly kind to her. Her husband had left her and their two children, and just two months later she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Yet here she was, carrying on with her life, raising her children, baking bread, and running her gîte. She had learned to slow down somewhat and no longer worked quite as hard as she once had, although she was still one of the hardest-working women I had ever encountered.
Her determination struck me. There was no grand announcement about what she had overcome, no attempt to draw attention to her difficulties. She kept going, doing what needed to be done and finding a way to make a life for herself and her family.
That evening, we gathered with the other guests for dinner. At some point, the conversation turned to a question: What was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen along the way so far?
When it was my turn, I didn’t think of a famous monument, a magnificent landscape, or one of the many extraordinary places we had visited. I thought of Melanie.
I said that the most beautiful thing I had seen was her singing voice and a woman with a full and generous heart.
She began to weep.
I don’t know if anyone had ever described her that way before, but I hoped she understood what I saw in her. I saw a woman who had endured tremendous hardships and yet still had music in her heart and a song to sing. A woman who kept creating, working, welcoming strangers into her home, and sharing what she had with others.
Her singing had touched me before I knew anything about her life. Learning her story only made that first impression more meaningful.
I think we sometimes travel thousands of miles looking for beautiful places, never realizing that the most beautiful thing we will encounter may be a person. Melanie reminded me that beauty isn’t always found in perfect circumstances or an easy life. Sometimes it is found in resilience, kindness, creativity, and the ability to keep singing even when life has given you every reason to be quiet.
I will always remember Lauzerte for its medieval beauty, the smell of fresh bread, and the familiar songs drifting through the afternoon air.
But most of all, I will remember Melanie.
She reminded me that a full and gernerous heart is one of the most beautiful things in the world.
You are loved…
