—by Wendy Kerner

There was a wonderful French restaurant in my area, that unfortunately succumbed to the difficult times for the restaurant industry during the pandemic, but it was a big success for many years. The owner was a delightful native French man, who everyone called Monsieur Jacques. He cared passionately about the food that was served at the restaurant, fine service, beautiful spaces, and making a special atmosphere for all the guests. Fortunately he loved my music and recommended me for many special events.  Over a number of years, I played there many times.

One of the lovely things about playing at the restaurant was that Monsieur Jacques felt everyone should be well fed, including the musicians. One evening I was playing for a wedding reception at the restaurant. Monsieur Jacques came up to me and said that the restaurant was very full that evening but he still wanted me to have a nice dinner and he was working on it.  I told him not to worry, he didn’t have to feed me, too. He looked quite askance at that and said, “No, no, you must eat—you will have dinner on your next break.”

When my break time came, I got up from the harp, and one of the waiters motioned to me and led me to a door that opened into a small storage room. There were spare tables leaning against the walls and chairs stacked to the ceiling all around it, but there, in the center of the tiny room, was a small table and one chair.  It was set with a crisp white tablecloth, a lit candle, fresh flowers, and included all the special little decorations that the regular tables of the restaurant had. The waiter smiled at me, gestured grandly towards the table, and said, “Madame, we have the finest table in the house for you!”

I did indeed have a wonderful meal, and a special memory of Monsieur Jacques’ amazing thoughtfulness to treasure forever. •