The Jewel Of Paris

	  		
 



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There were rough seas and rain on the day that I came to the New World, this year of our Lord 

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I had barely made land when Papal command insisted that I stay on board. 

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I was given a child born in the wild long a distant from Ville Quebec's hold. 

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He was brown in the shade the billowed sails made and barely a month or two old. 


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?And so mon petit we are borne 'cross the sea to the council of good King Louis. 

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There is hot bread and tea for my baby and me and the wonder of all of Paris.? 



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And there was strong drink in hand the day we made land. Our arrival was met with such joy. 

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I was taken to work from morning 'til dark and erstwhile I cared for the boy. 

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So quickly he grew! Before he was two he was bigger than boys twice his age. 

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A marvel for sure, a heart brave and pure, impressing both subject and sage. 


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?So, mon petit, you were born 'cross the sea in a country beyond Acadie. 

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And though your people for free they were destined to be in bondage; the slaves of Paris.? 


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But the boy grew up tall (a wonder to all) in the court of Louis the fourteenth. 

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There was hot bread and tea, the court of Louis, and a wonderfully rare human being. 

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In becoming a man, he'd soon understand that he was not born like the rest. 

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He was tall, brown and lean. His eyes; dark and clean And a different heart beat in his chest 


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?And so, mon petit, you were born 'cross the sea to the Huron of Ville Sainte Marie. 

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You just happened to be entrusted to me to bring you as the Jewel of Paris.? 


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There was terror inside on the day that she died. The first time that he'd been alone. 

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He knelt by her bed. He picked up her head, and with her last breath she made known 

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through all of her days and from each of her pays she'd committed near half what she made 

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She'd put it away, so that on this day, the price of his freedom was paid. 


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And she said ?no, mon petit, you were not born to me but I've loved you as if you might be. 

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I have saved, mon petit, so that you can be free. Return you to Ville Saint Marie.? 

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And so mon petit took a boat, crossed the sea, to the countries beyond Acadie 

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to the Ville Sainte Marie, in Huron country. The young man arrived proud ... and free.