Many
of us will celebrate Canada Day this weekend.
There will be fireworks, BBQs, picnics, special events, family
gatherings...lots of way to commemorate the country we live in. The approaching holiday has caused me to
consider how much I take Canada for granted...how little I appreciate the life
that I live.
I've
been a car auctioneer for 23 years now.
When I first started in that business, most of the car dealers that I
encountered were white men. In 2019,
they are still mostly men - but they are every colour of skin you can
imagine. The range of ethnic groups
represented at the auction reflects the diversity of our national population. I
don't get much time to talk to the dealers, but on occasion, there's a few
minutes to get to know them better.
There's
a younger man who is originally from Somalia.
He goes by the name Sam, but most people call him "Smiley",
because - well, he smiles all the time.
Judging by what I have learned from him about his life, he must be older
than he looks. Sam lived with his
parents and siblings in a rural area of Somalia; his father and mother were subsistence
farmers growing crops and keeping a herd of goats. When he was about six years old, conflict
erupted in Somalia. At about the same
time, drought hit the region; after struggling for several years in the midst
of increasing violence and diminishing productivity on the farm, the family
moved to a displaced persons camp outside a major city. Once the family was settled in the camp,
Sam's father left to find work. Sam
never saw his father again.
Sam
lived in the camp for the next eight years, dependent on international aid
agencies for food, shelter and rudimentary healthcare. The primary source of nourishment was millet
flour. Sam says they ate it three meals
a day, mostly in a porridge form. It was
supplemented with palm oil. About once a
month, they received small portion of meat which was shredded to make it go
further and put in the millet porridge.
Sam told me that he was sick of millet and what he craved most during
that time was fresh vegetables and fruit; he received an orange every year at
Christmas time but never fresh veggies.
At
the age of 15, Sam and his family immigrated to Turkey via a temporary farm
labour program. The family worked on an industrial
farm that grew tomatoes and cucumbers year round. They weren't paid very much, but they were
allowed to eat all the tomatoes and cucumbers they wanted. Sam thought he was in paradise for the first
few months - but he got weary of them too.
What at first seemed to be a blessing soon became a burden. The very things he dreamed of when he was in
the displaced persons camp were soured by the lack of choice .
The
family immigrated to Canada when Sam was 20 years old. He told me the memory that stays with him
most was going to a supermarket for the first time and pushing a cart up and
down aisle after aisle of things to eat; he said the family was overwhelmed
with the choice.
Freedom
comes in many forms. Freedom to choose
is one of them, more precious than most of us can understand and something
about which we seldom give a second thought.
Celebrate
and rejoice! Blessings and peace to all.
Pat
Take This Thought Away
With You
"For
those without choice, hopelessness is no obstacle to hope."
~ from the Web ~
A Week's Worth of Gratitude
Saturday
~ bald eagle coasting the shoreline
Sunday
~ Joy Wagler
Monday
~ Johnson Harbour/Queen's Bush Road
Tuesday
~ Wil McKay
Wednesday
~ Thom in the church garden
Thursday
~ Josh Fritz, civic leader
Friday
~ our ministers
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