We stepped into Place Jacques-Cartier in Old Montreal — a large, beautiful square near the Saint Lawrence River lined by twinkling lights, bustling restaurants, and tiny shops. It was our first night in Montreal — just three days ago — and we’d only been in the city for a few hours.
We were just starting to get our bearings.
In the center of the square, just a few feet from us, a musician began strumming his guitar.
We paused. We love live music.
A second later, he began singing. We knew the song instantly:
“When You Say Nothing At All” by Alison Krauss.
Our wedding song.
It’s not a song we hear very often, and it’s certainly not a song we’ve ever heard live, but at this moment, in this square, in Old Montreal, just as we happen to be passing by, more than 300 miles from home, a musician chose to play our song.
We are halfway through a wonderful trip to Canada. We’ve seen many fantastic things, spoken to some incredible people, and eaten some great food. We’ve done a walking tour of Old Montreal. Visited bookstores. Sat in the pews in Notre Dame Cathedral to watch a spectacular light show. Visited parks, monuments, fountains, and museums. Eaten delicious breakfasts and dinners and lots of ice cream.
Enjoyed nearly every moment of our trip so far.
But nothing will top that moment for me.
The combination of serendipity, nostalgia, and romance was overwhelming to me. It was beauty and perfection.
It was almost as if the universe had orchestrated this unlikely moment just for us.
I’ll never forget it.
