Strange Language

Psalm 114

Yesterday was the annual neighbourhood 'lunch'. I use quotations because the official start time was 1pm, we arrived about 2pm, we ate nibbles and drank sangria for the next hour and then ate. It is Belgium  so there was an abundance of delicious food, both 'plats' and dessert. We ate our fill and more.
Many of our neighbours speak English and we have a smattering of French but it is difficult for those having a conversation with us to follow our strange attempts at their language. We decided on a strategy. We would sit at an empty table thereby not forcing anyone to have to try to converse with us in either language for whatever the language it would be strange for one of us. Our plan seemed good. We met some very kind people and are better acquainted with our next-door neighbour. But our hats go off most to the couple who knew very little English and yet came to join us. They bravely endured our faltering French. Maybe we can be friends. This would be an answer to prayer. I would like to feel that I have friends in our village, especially ones who speak the local language.