I started French in the seventh grade.  That summer I had listened to the opera Carmen and I happily thought I’d be able to understand it when the year was over.  Little did I know.  After eight years of French I could comprehend some words and phrases but understanding the whole opera eluded me.

Sometimes it takes longer to do something than we planned.  By living and trying, we learn to accept what’s realistic for each of us to expect of ourselves.  In the case of French, I doubt I’ll ever know enough French to sing along with the opera.  But no matter,  I still love it even when I have no idea what they are saying.