“Tomorrow’s Christmas! Paris has been getting ready for three weeks. From the Christmas lights on the Champs Elysees, to elaborate window displays at the capital’s most famous department stores, everything is magical and enchanting. “C’est TELLement magnifique”, says Mom. My name’s Emmie. I rewrote my letter to Santa Claus five times. It’s not because I kept changing my mind about what Christmas presents I wanted; it’s because I couldn’t find the right words to get him to stay an extra ten minutes at our house so I could give him a hug and talk with him. Daddy said not to be too hopeful. Santa has a lot to do on Christmas Eve and probably won’t have a second to spare.

Who goes under the table? No, it’s not some new Parisian parlor game, but the celebration of Epiphany. Like every year, all of France is getting ready to “draw kings” in a few days’ time with the famous galette des rois (King Cake). The yearly tradition starts on January 6th and runs for several days. All French kids dream of the same thing; getting that one piece of cake that hides the magic trinket that will earn them the right to be crowned king.

The Parisian stands straight and walks with her head high. Haughty, superb, proud and snobbish? Not more than anyone else. Perhaps it’s just natural, genetic and involuntary? Certainly, the Parisian is aware that she belongs to an elite lucky enough to live in the city of light, the capital of style and romance. Does the way she carries herself have anything to do with this? Or is it a question of upbringing that engenders such haughty behavior? So, improve your posture and borrow an “unwittingly” superb attitude and perhaps obtain this, so Parisian, slightly snobbish charm.

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