But Maggie was right, if anyone could make sense of this strange sighting of this waifish, long-haired little girl, running around alone and giggling in the back of a darkened cathedral, wearing the very same medallion that was hanging around my neck, it would be Mama Vermillion. Come to think of it, this kind of strangeness was right up her alley.

Making my way through the streets of the “The Quarter” during my walk to work is one of my favorite parts of the day. The French Quarter, also known as the Vieux Carré, is the oldest neighborhood in the city of New Orleans. This city is known for so many things that are more like a city in France than in the U.S. and one can really see and feel that very strongly in the Vieux Carré.

Rounding the corner near Mama’s shop, I marveled at the diversity of this part of the city and couldn’t wait to tell Mama about my dream. Walking past the familiar shops and street musicians and artists made the walk even more interesting, and by the time my hand was on the old brass doorknob and pushing the door open with the familiar swoosh sound and the clanging of the old bell at the top of the door sill, I had bolstered my courage for another round with Mama Vermillion.