"Marinette? Marinette?" I open my eyes slowly, my cheek resting against one of the suitcases. I was dreaming about a black cat. "We're here, honey. We're in Paris!" Papa's and Mama's face glow with happiness and I give them a tired smile. We get out of the car and stretch our tired legs after many long hours of sitting in the van.

"There it is," Papa puts his arms around me. "Our new home and bakery." I glance at the building, all boarded up and sallow hard. But if anyone can make a home beautiful, its Papa and Mama.

We step inside, and I get excited my mind's eye already coming up with ideas for paint colors and designs. "She's got that look, Sabine," Papa chuckles. Mama smiles. "Come on, let's check out the rest of the place."

A few days later, its beginning to look a little bit more like a bakery and Mama and I cheer on Papa as he hangs the Croissant sign outside. I think Mama was afraid he would fall, but he didn't.

"Want to help me sweep, Marinette?" Papa asks, as we head back inside the cool bakery. "I'll work on cleaning the oven." I nod, my broom swishing across the floorboards, and I dance with the broom.

Woom! A loud sound as me looking up and bursting into laughter as Papa has been covered in soot and ashes, cleaning out the ovens. "Oh, Tom, the look on your face!" Mama laughs as she walks by with a load of clean towels. My Papa is so silly.

One of my favorite jobs is painting the logo on the front door. Guess who came up with the design? Me! It takes a practiced and patience hand, but at last the logo is done. A ladybug comes and flies down on the door. Ladybugs are considered good luck, and now I know the bakery will do well once we open.

My attic room is another story, and I look around the large room, wondering if it will ever feel like home. However, with cans of paint, brushes, and my vivid imagination, I don't stay discouraged for long.

"Who wants croissants?" Papa sings, entering the painting zone. Forgetting I'm holding a paint bucket I cry, "Me!" sloshing my mother with paint!

We eat our lunch as a family and Papa looks around my room with pride. "I'm so proud of you, Marinette. You always know how to make things beautiful. Now, I have surprise for you."

I wait with eager anticipation has Papa disappears downstairs, coming back with a large box. "Go on," Mama says, "Open it!" I sneeze as a cloud of dust fills the air, then squeal happily, "My paint supplies!"

Sure enough, my easel, my brushes, my palette, everything is here and ready to make this the prettiest room in Paris.

I stuff my drawing pencils into my favorite cup, the one I made in art class back home.

At long last, I flop down on my bed, perfectly content. Paris is truly beginning to feel like home. A patch of sunlight appears in my room, and opening my eyes, I see I have yet to explore what is beyond the skylight. Green leaves make my bed dappled as a soft breeze blows, and I sit up, opening the hatch.

I peek slowly out of the hatch, my eyes meeting a sea of green. Its like my own private forest, or garden. A restless for place for me. I slowly walk through my small forest of green, gently moving back the branches to a spectacular view of Paris. Two doves fly off, and my mouth drops open as I take in the beauty, Notre Dame Cathedral standing proudly across the river.

Joy spreads across my face, with all this beauty around I can't wait to capture it on paper and be inspired by this City of Lights.