On being … sage advice in any language

By Ingrid Sapona

Apparently, the French translation of the word pessimistic is pessimiste. Simple, non? Even so, I was surprised when an Air France employee told me, in perfect English, that I shouldn’t be pessimistic. 

My sisters and I were in Paris and we were all flying home to different cities on the same day last week. To make things simple, we shared a cab to the airport. My flight was the last to leave and so I was at the airport more than six hours early. My suitcase was small and I did carry-on to France; I planned on doing the same on the way home. 

Well, the Air France folks were a bit more particular in Paris than they were here in Toronto. Together, my suitcase and tote weighed 13.4 kilos. Seems they only allow 12 kilos for carry-on. So, they said I had to check the suitcase. I was not happy about that for a number of reasons, including that my tote rested so nicely on my rolling suitcase and without it, I’d have to carry the tote all day. But more importantly, with so many Air France flights going out of that terminal, I thought the odds were high that a bag checked more than six hours in advance might go astray.

To check it, I had to exit from security to get it tagged. When I got to the person who was supposed to do this, I pled my case again. I emphasized that my flight was not for six hours and that I was concerned my suitcase would go missing in that time. The Air France gentleman looked at me and, as he attached the tag, he said, “It’ll be fine… don’t be pessimistic!” 

Next thing I knew, the bag was making its way down the conveyor belt. I realized that if the bag didn’t make it to Toronto at the same time as me, it really wasn’t a big deal. (I have clothes and stuff at home.) But the rest of the day — and especially while I waited at the baggage carousel in Toronto, all I could think of was that I wished I didn’t have to check the bag. It was a big plane and for about a half hour there was a steady stream of bags tumbling down the belt. Mine was not among them — but I’d say about half the plane was still waiting, so I was in good company. After a further half hour when no bags appeared, more bags finally started coming down the belt. I was relieved when mine appeared. Seems Mr. Air France was right… I should not have been pessimistic.

The comment struck me not just because I was impressed with his English. It hit a nerve because I am pessimistic by nature. I wish I weren’t. I try hard to counter-act my pessimism impulse. So, for example, when something works out better than I anticipated, I try to focus on it. I do this in hopes that next time my inner voice tells me things will not work out well, I can quickly remind myself of examples when things worked out. Indeed, on the same trip there were a number of “alls well that ends well” moments — things that seemed to go wrong but that ended up just fine. 

The best example was our visit to Notre Dame. Though it’s free to get into the cathedral, our time in Paris was limited so I booked us a “skip the line” tour. (We did this once at Edinburgh castle and it worked out great.) Well, the long and the short of it was the tour guide never showed up. I was so frustrated — not just because I had paid for the tour, but because the prospect of standing in line possibly for hours was not welcome. 

After waiting a sufficient time in hopes the guide would show, we headed over to the cathedral to join the line. En route I stopped a woman and asked her if she’d take a picture of the three of us. She was most obliging and when she handed my phone back, I asked how long the line was. She said it’s long, but it moves. So, into the queue we went.

It was one of those Disneyland snaking lines — I don’t know how many rows, but there were LOTS. As I turned the corner of the line for the second time someone standing behind the barricade looked at me and asked (again, in perfect English) if I wanted to go in. I chuckled and said, “Yes, of course, that’s why I’m in line”. He smiled and said, well, come this way. I thought he was joking. I said I was with my sisters and he asked how many. When I said “three”, he said that was fine. My sisters were a few paces ahead of me but I got their attention and then the gentleman opened the barrier enough for the three of us to slip in. 

I don’t know what prompted him to offer us to — in effect — skip the line. Could he read the frustration on my face and guess that we had been let down by the no-show tour guide? I doubt it. (I imagine we just looked like three tired, grey haired tourists.) Whatever the reason, I thanked him profusely as we headed in.

It’s funny, when such good fortune strikes I tend to attribute it to my guardian angel working overtime. I certainly did so that day at Notre Dame. Actually, I even did so as I pulled my suitcase off the belt in Toronto. I really have a strong belief in my guardian angel… maybe it’s because she works so hard to remind me — in different languages even — that I shouldn’t be so pessimistic.

©️2025 Ingrid Sapona