“Notre-Dame de Paris, in particular, is a curious specimen of
this variety. Every surface, every stone of this venerable pile, is a page of
the history not only of the country, but of science and of art.” Victor Hugo
described this masterpiece in his famous . And Now,
everything, every coating of imprint left by wave of time, every layer on the
monuments deposited by each race was destroyed and turned into pieces in the
rage of a fire. The ghost of Quasimodo could no longer wait for his beloved
girl at the awakening of the bells. Notre-Dame was gone forever, and a piece of
Paris died.

Paris, with its Notre-Dame, has always been one of these cities I
wanted to visit. In fact, about two years ago, I did plan a family trip to
France and Italy. However, one of my friends happened to be robbed and got badly
injured in Rome at that time and this accident changed my mind. We went to
German and Switzerland instead. But I always thought, one day, I would go to Paris.
I would sip a cup of Latte at a café by Seine River, letting the beauty of
Notre-Dame taking my breath away. I forgot that life’s beauty is inseparable
from its fragility. You make a plan and think you’ve taken everything into
consideration, and one day something unexpected happen and change everything.
You comfort yourself with your maybe-one-day list, and all of sudden “maybe”
become “never”. You walk down the street with hope, but only find yourself in
the alley of despair. The only certainty in this world is uncertainty. The
point is to embrace this fragility, navigate this life with appreciation and
gratitude, and most of all, try to marry your dream, your desire with action as
best as you can, as soon as you can.