Memories of a Paris honeymoon

“A Hotel’s Life” (Dec. 29) put me in mind of a visit to a similar little hotel/pension on the Left Bank in 1960. We were newly married, and this was a dream honeymoon. We stumbled upon the small hotel near the old Gare d’Orsay, between Boulevard St. Germain and the Seine.

We had a bare-bones room overlooking Paris’ rooftops, and we thought we were in heaven. One evening we strolled a couple of blocks to a cellar bistro where we enjoyed a delicious, affordable meal, accompanied by three different bottles of wine, one for each course. Though not really drinkers, we savored the wine.

We walked back to the hotel and decided to pay our bill before an early morning checkout. My husband, feeling the effects of the wine, asked me to take care of the bill. I pulled out our traveling money for the next three weeks -- a wad of cash amounting to nearly $800. I extracted the small amount for the hotel, and we retired to our room. No sooner had we arrived there than the ancient telephone rang.

It was the young desk clerk; I had left the entire wad on the desk. My knees went weak as I thought of what could have happened to our trip. Worse, what would have happened to our new marriage? I ran downstairs and retrieved the money with profuse thanks. The clerk smiled benignly.

I never forgot that man’s kindness, and my gentle thoughts of Paris and its good people have never faltered.

Rose Marie Meany

Whittier