My Dear Madeleine

September 7th

Today, standing on the cobblestone road, I saw her. I saw the passion in her sweet almond-coloured eyes as she walked past me. I saw her divine face, focused on her house ahead. The way she moved was poetic in a way. Her strides were long and powerful like a man's, but she was lovely all the same.

Oh diary, I saw Madeleine. I really did. You must understand, I have never felt such a strong connection to anybody before. I have seen her around the seigneurie, but we never had a chance to speak.

I think I would like to be great friends with dear Madeleine.

Her father owns the censive neighbouring ours, and I have seen Madeleine working in their farm. She seems extremely strong for a woman, but I suppose she has to be because she is their only child.

I know a lot about their family, but it's only because my own mother is friends with hers. And I spend a lot of time gazing at Madeleine while my young siblings nap.

Madeleine's family moved from France just a few years ago. They never planned on coming to Nouvelle France, but Madeleine's father fell ill and could not keep up with whatever his business was in France. Apparently, taking over a new property was easier than owning a business.

I have never understood the behaviours of adults, despite nearly being one myself, so it does not make much sense to me. I am sure I will understand some day.