The chocolatier at Rue des Fleurs

The frosty December air coursed through every fiber of Rosie’s being. Yet, the historic cobblestone streets surrounding her were hustling and bustling with the holiday cheer. The air was filled with laughter and excitement for the upcoming Christmas festivities. It was a season meant for warmth and wonder. A warmth she couldn’t seem to invite in herself. The hollow in her chest continued lingering.

Seeking a shelter, Rosie slipped into a quieter alley. One which had appeared as if from thin air. There, nestled in between a dusty antique shop and an art gallery, was a dainty chocolate shop with a handwritten sign which hung on the windowsill inside. Chocolaterie at Rue des Fleurs. The shop seemed unpretentious, simple.

Her frosty fingers reached for the golden handle and a tiny bell chimed in as Rosie pushed the door open.

Warmth enveloped her along with the comforting scent of roasted cacao, hazelnut and pine trees. Behind an illuminated glass display, a large assortment of desserts were situated enticingly. Decadent chocolate candies, caramel sweets, toffee bonbons, strawberry macarons stacked upon each other…

“May I suggest the caramel chocolate with hazelnuts. It is the perfect remedy.” An older lady with large round glasses on her nose startled Rosie. Her voice was like honey.

Rosie stood frozen in front of the glass display. “Oh, what is it mean to cure?”

Violet pushed her drooping glasses up, “Well, why don’t you try it out and see for yourself, my dear. Chocolate cures everything.”

“I don’t need a remedy,” Rosie’s voice quivered, yet something within her had ignited. Her chest burning from within.

“Ah, every customer says that before tasting my chocolates,”Violet mused. “Humans always seek shelter and remedies for their problems, but they are afraid. And fear...fear is a fickle thing, child. An illusion, if you will.”

The old lady shuffled slowly towards the other end of the glass display and reached for a smaller chocolate covered treat with caramel glaze on top.

The chocolaterie had been in Violet’s family for generations, and now it was her responsibility to give people what their souls truly needed to be free. Her chocolate creations were nothing short of exquisite and she knew deep in her bones that she had inherited not just her mother’s practiced skills, but her extraordinary, intuitive gifts. People rarely visited the shop just once.

This morning, however, a particularly special woman had entered her establishment. One look into those haunted eyes, and Violet had instantly recognized the quiet pain Rosie harbored. It was the same familiar ache she had seen so many visitors carry through her door before. Each and every person drawn to Violet’s obscure chocolaterie was brought there for a reason, guided by an invisible power. And every single chocolate piece meticulously crafted in her magical kitchen hidden in the back, held a precise solution to what they secretly sought. Violet had known, without a doubt, exactly what to offer Rosie the moment she stepped inside.

The young woman eyed the small plate which Violet had pushed towards her. The sign in front of the chocolate creation read The Art of Letting Go. For a brief moment, every choice she had made – right or wrong – appeared in her mind. Choices which had led her here in Switzerland, in this very shop.

Rosie closed her eyes as she took a slow, deliberate bite of the decadent chocolate. “Indulging a little couldn’t hurt,” she thought, as the caramel, hazelnut flavors completely overcame her senses. As the chocolate melted, the walls of the shop seemed to had dissolved as well.

When she finally opened her eyes, two incredibly large doors had materialized in front of her. Even more incredulous was that they all appeared to be edible. One was made out of marbled white chocolate, while the other was entirely out of dark chocolate with a golden handle.

Instantly, the dark, familiar fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel popped into Rosie’s thoughts.

Her stomach tied itself into a knot. “God, I hope I haven’t been trapped by an evil witch who is about to devour me for breakfast,” she panicked silently. It all seemed like pure madness.She found herself completely alone in a surreal, dreamlike vastness. There was no guidance, no comforting reassurance and no other option left except to follow her instincts and pray she would come out alive on the other side.

Rosie had always been painfully indecisive, paralyzed by the chronic fear of making the wrong choice and doubting every path she had ever taken in life. Now, standing alone in front of these doors, with no map or compass to guide her, her anxious mind began to race, playing out every worst-case scenario and negative consequence like a broken film reel.

“It is time for a change, time for me to change” she inhaled sharply, then squeezed the golden doorknob.

To her surprise, directly in front of her stood a much a younger version of herself. Young Rosie’s cheeks were stained with streaks of dried, salty tears.

The girl gasped, taking a step back. “Who are you?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

Could she somehow have recognized her older self? Yet, even as the impossible hung in the air, Rosie knew with absolute clarity why the young girl was crying. The moment was familiar. A sharp pang of grief passed deep within Rosie’s heart for the child she used to be. If I could only help her, Rosie thought desperately. But how does one heal the past?

As the older, wiser version of Rosie was replaying in her mind the chocolate shop owner’s words, a realization dawned on her.

There was only one solution, only one cure to every fear and every heartbreak she had ever felt. Love. All that which young Rosie needed at this very moment to heal her heart was love. Not pity, not shelter, but a soul-deep affection. And she would be the one to provide it for her.

The girl looked up towards Rosie with hope blooming in her eyes.

If she had only known back then she would eventually discover that the life altering remedy to everything is just a little love...and a delicious piece of chocolate.