Michael MonnierA straightforward “Thank You” ringing in the street.
It comes with a toothless grin.
That voice. Between chuckling and quavering.
In the middle of the street. On the sidewalk.
Near a parking lot: “I’ve always begged while living in Montreal.”
Born in Kuujjuaq. The Far North. Where the province of Quebec touches the Arctic.
“My name is Louisa”: wrinkling her face. Striving, she adds: “Partridge Family.”
Between two outstretched hands, she reveals having 7 children.
They don’t see each other anymore.
Her small meals. She protects them.
Her brother-in-law, by her side, always keeps an eye on her.
Tonight, she’ll go back to her small room. Not too far away, she blurts out.
If you walk by the Place-des-Arts Metro Station in Montreal, you might hear this little: “Thank you.” Not so expansive, she won’t refuse to chat with bystanders.
For a few minutes with Louisa.
