Hélène Loire, the generous stranger

[Annie Sargent]

Listen to the Audio HERE

Hélène Loire came to the village of Pellevoisin near Chateauroux for the first time in 1964. This is the year her mother died. She came to the village because she had inherited the old family house in the village and she was back to settle the estate. She sold the old family home in Pellevoisin because it was old and she didn’t want to mess with all the renovations, but at the same time she bought a plot of land of a few acres and built a modest home on it. It was only 600 sqf, but it was a new construction and it felt just right for her. Hélène only used the house every August and it sat empty the rest of the time.

She only went to Pellevoisin because her grandfather had been the village blacksmith and her father was born there. She didn’t know much about her father other than the fact that he was a butler and worked for different rich families in the area. The buttler met a beautiful girl from a nearby village, they fell in love, she got pregnant, then the butler headed for the hills. Finding herself pregnant and without a husband, Hélène’s mother left her village and went to Paris where she gave birth to Hélène who, it turned out, would be her only child. Hélène spent her entire life in Paris raised by her single mother and she had nothing to do with the village of Pellevoisin until her fifties.

But when she started going, she liked it there. She built her little house and went back every August for her summer vacation accompanied by her boyfriend Valère. Valère was a tailor on Place de la Madeleine in Paris and made fine clothing for famous people. She worked alongside with him her whole life.

Because she was only the village in August, she hired a gardener to tend to her large plot of land in her absence. I heard the gardener on French radio and he said she wasn’t easy to work with. She never paid him easily or quickly. He remembers a saying she repeated to him on several occasions: “je ne donne ni je ne pardonne”.

And the years went on. Valère died in Paris in 1995. He was her only family. She had the Pompes Funèbres drive him to the village where she demanded a plot to bury her boyfriend. I say demanded because that’s how the mayor felt about it. She had never inquired about a plot in the village cemetery and yet she needed a burial plot right there right now. But, since she was a land-owner in the village, the mayor accommodated her. The mayor didn’t know that she’d soon move in permanently. Now that Valère was gone, Hélène had no desire to go back to their shop on Place de la Madeleine. She sold the business and moved to Pellevoisin full time.

In the village Hélène only talked to one person, a woman called Edith Gauthier who lived across the street from her modest home. Because Hélène was elderly by then, Edith offered to do some of her shopping and help her with a few every day needs. It was clear to Edith that Hélène lived on little, always insisting on buying the cheapest of everything and making as few purchases as possible. She didn’t eat much and wore old clothes and old shoes. I think that’s odd for a person who made luxury clothes her whole life, but I don’t think anyone knew about her previous life in Paris. The sad reality is that destitute seniors are not unheard of in France, especially women who worked with their husband without being officially employed. And she wasn’t even married to Valère! So, Edith assumed that Hélène was an old lady with a tiny pension and didn’t pry.

But, at the same time, Hélène told the mayor “when I die the inhabitants of Pellevoisin will have a huge surprise”. OK he thought, don’t spring another emergency burial on us!

Time went on some more. Hélène got older and had an accident in her home in 2001. Edith took her to the hospital to get fixed up, but afterwards it was clear that Hélène couldn’t live alone any more. The mayor of the Pellevoisin found her a spot in a retirement home. Her only visitors were Edith and the mayor, but he only saw her once a year to help her do her taxes. Hélène didn’t pay any taxes because her retirement income was low, but you still have to sign the papers. But still, Hélène lived for a long time. The retirement home where she lived organized a party for her 100 birthday and she died 3 weeks later. That was in 2007.

Eventually, the local notaire opened her last will and testament and indeed there was a big surprise! The testament stated that the village was to inherit everything she owned. Was it just that plot of land and the little house built on it? Oh, no. The little old lady who lived on nothing had been squirreling away significant amounts of money.

Hélène had bought thousands of gold coins over the years. Remember that she made luxury clothing? She and Valère had plenty of income and they didn’t declare much of it. What she did instead is that she bought gold coins from all over the world and stashed them away in a safe. Gold coins + time = her estate was worth over one million euros.

The village needed a new fire truck, they needed to upgrade public lighting, these million euros would be put to good use! But that wasn’t to be, at least not right away. Hélène had set strict conditions.

Remember how I told you that she was raised the only child of a single mother? Hélène wanted the money to be used only to build housing for low income families. What about that modest house sitting on a big plot of land? That  house could only be sold to a family from Paris who lived in Paris full time. Parisians all need a place in the countryside.

One of the major streets in the village was to be renamed after her. A plaque should be affixed on the Mairie to state that she had donated the money, she even wrote the exact text “A nos donateurs Valerio Amanito et Hélène Loire”. The amount of the inheritance could not be kept secret. The grave should be kept in good condition and have flowers on it. Two paintings that she particularly liked were to be hung in the mayor’s office (and because they are quite valuable, they had to install an alarm system in the mairie). The testament also stated that should the village not fulfil her wishes, the inheritance would go to the Villejuif hospital where it would be used to do cancer research.

In France municipalities cannot use cash to build housing for low-income families. To get the label “low-income” they must borrow at least half of the money needed for construction from the government. So, that’s what they did. They borrowed money to build low-income housing and they use the rent they receive to pay for the new lighting and the new firetruck.

You might wonder why I’m telling you about this unknown person, Hélène Loire, and her strange life. I think it’s because there are a lot of people like her in France. They live a quiet life, save up all their pennies (“ils vivent chichement” as we say in French), they don’t consume much, they don’t leave any  footprint, some of them don’t even have children to leave their savings to.

I once talked to the lady who raises money for the guide dog school in Toulouse and she explained that half of their budget one year came exactly from one such person. Lived a solitary life and donated everything, including quite a bit of cash, to the local school that trains guide dog for the blind. People like that make a difference in life.

And sure, Hélène was a bit crotchety, but wouldn’t I be that way dealing with demanding rich people every day on place de la Madeleine? In life she didn’t speak up about the plight of modest families like her and her mother,  but in death she made her wishes very clear: she wanted to help modest families have a safe home and I am sure most of us would say that’s a great life achievement.

Thank you for your support of Join Us in France! I’ll be back with more stories about France next month and hope you’re able to have a nice summer this year!

Au revoir !

 

[Author]

Posts