I'm still speaking it

Today I ran an errand for my father, going to a health store for one of his current "handicapped" needs. While I was in there, I heard the store owner and his wife speaking in French; I asked them politely if they were from France and they affirmed that indeed, they were. Then, we had a whole conversation in French with the inevitable, "Where did you live/where are you from in France?" as the main subject. They were very surprised that I spoke French and I told them that overhearing their small chit-chat in French prompted me to speak up.

Funnily enough, I find someone to speak French to about once a week. Last week, a visiting African couple spoke to me after a missions service in my home church. The week before that, a French lady who attends another church had a lengthy discussion with me about the state of French Christianity.

I've found French Canadians, West Africans, Belgians, and more over the past few months of being in America. It's not quite the same as being in France, where I was living in French 24/7, but I'm pleased that I'm not losing my French language abilities. God has been faithful to keep placing other francophones (French speakers) in my path, wherever I am.
Ariel Rainey