Those dedicated souls who read and reread our proposed stories and made so many valuable contributions and suggestions: Jim Allen, Fred Angelis, Angela and Barry Belford, Sue Bond, Judith Bridgehall, Judy Carter, Clare Corrigan, Russ Coultrup, Nancy Lee and Dale Doige, Trish French, Evi Glassman, Sue Higgins, Wanda James, Sylvia Jong, Beth Kalisz, Barb Kerr, Iris Koshman, Sue Lacher, Sharon Leach, Darlene, Michelle and Mary Montgomery, Diane Nicholson, Janet McOrmond, Diane Parent, David Platt, Bob Quinn, Shirley Rainer, John Seagrave, Sam Seupersad, Janine Smith, Noah St. John, Keeth Stone, Edna Sutherland, Debbie Taylor, Marla Taylor, Bridget Ubochi, Liz Ventrella, Harish Vaishnav and Jamie Yeo.
Peter Vegso, Terry Burke, Kelly Maragni, Elizabeth Rinaldi, Lori Golden and Irena Xanthos at Health Communications, Inc., for their wonderful sales and marketing efforts.
Christine Belleris, Lisa Drucker, Allison Janse, Susan Tobias and Kathy Grant, our editors at Health Communications, Inc., for their combined hard work editing and designing this book with such expertise and dedication.
Kim Weiss, Paola Fernandez and Maria Dinoia, Health Communications’ brilliant publicity team, whose efforts continue to keep our books on the bestseller lists.
Randee Feldman, Chicken Soup for the Soul product manager at Health Communications, Inc., for her masterful coordination and support of all the Chicken Soup projects.
Lisa Camp and Larissa Hise at Health Communications, Inc., for their inspiring and cooperative efforts to complete the cover design of this book.
In Toronto, Dan Sullivan, teacher and mentor, whose wisdom has brought greater clarity, ease and abundance to so many.
The special members of the Monthly Mentor and The Wealth Creator Source across Canada, who make Raymond’s work the greatest joy a person could experience.
Raymond’s dear friends Lon Rosen, Tim Johnson, Our Wayne Patterson, Stephen Bezruchka, and Martin Rutte. How empty Raymond’s life would be without having you guys to love in this lifetime.
Janet’s dear friends Alex McLeish, Ramona Machado, Darlene Montgomery, Shirley Rainer, Barb Allport, Marilyn Lake-Lee, Sheila Jeffrey, James Corby, Jamie Yeo and Frannie Kalusa. When the going got tough, you guys showed up.
Peter and Maureen Kolossa, Helen Valleau, Dale De Nunzio and Dawn Johnson of the Hoffman Quadrinity Process (www.quadrinity.com). The wonderful work you do in helping others (like us) find their way back to themselves is instrumental in creating world peace, one person at a time. Thank you for your dedication and your love.
Barbara Underhill, Paul Martini, Kurt Browning, Rick Hansen, Paul Henderson, Natalie MacMaster, Jann Arden, Pamela Wallin, Faye Dance, Ted Mahovlich, Lynn Johnston, Leslie Scrivener and Sally Armstrong for opening their hearts and sharing, in their own words, their special stories with all Canadians. We can’t thank you enough.
And last, but not least, Marilyn Bell Di Lascio. The image she shared in her own words of swimming, so many years ago, through the night—exhausted, frightened of the lake, petrified of the dark and yet filled with such dogged determination to reach her goal—will stay with us forever. She inspired and moved us in ways that cannot be put into words. Thank you Marilyn—we will be forever grateful.
Because of the immensity of this project, it is possible we may have left out the names of some people who helped us along the way. If so, please accept our apologies and know that you are appreciated. We are so very grateful for the many hands and hearts that helped make this book possible. We love you all!
Introduction
During the nearly four years it took to compile this book, we were asked several questions repeatedly: “What will make this Chicken Soup book different from all the other Chicken Soup titles? How will you make this book a true reflection of our diverse and historic Canadian heritage?” “What exactly is Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul anyway?”
When we first began collecting stories, the answers to these questions were not clear. After all, the Canadian identity is multidimensional as well as multicultural. As Canadians, we find our roots in so many different places around the world. How could we create a collection of stories that represented them all? In addition, Chicken Soup for the Soul stories are traditionally nonpolitical and noncontroversial. Yet Canada, by its very existence, is a political entity, and its historic origins are steeped in controversy. Many of those controversies are part of the Canadian fabric of life to this day; they continuously challenge us to stretch and grow and to be the best people and country we can be.
How could we assemble a collection of stories that would truly represent everything Canada is—and everyone who lives here? At some point it became apparent we simply could not. But we knew we could put together a book of wonderful, inspirational, heart-opening stories, which people would love to read and which would make us feel proud to be Canadians.
We decided we needed stories from people living in as many different places in Canada as possible. We searched from Cape Breton Island to Vancouver Island, and in every province and territory in between. We looked for stories in big cities, small towns, villages and rural communities all across this beautiful country. We sought stories from teachers and students, professional writers and professional homemakers, athletes and musicians, journalists and entertainers, First Nations Communities, historians and war veterans, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Canadian Coast Guard—just about anybody we could think of. We did our best to tell our storytellers just what we were after. And then the stories started to arrive.
When we had a group of stories we liked, we ran them past a panel of Canadian readers and asked the panel for comments. They told us what they liked and what they didn’t. Eventually, a pattern began to emerge—and our spines started to tingle. We realized that what we were doing had never been done before in this country, and we were honoured to the tips of our toes to be doing it! Our love and commitment to this unique and special project grew into a passion.
What we present to you now is the result of reading over 6,000 stories during the past four years. In addition to the rich treasure of ordinary Canadians telling us their personal and heretofore unknown stories, we tried our best to include the stories of many well-known and beloved Canadians as well. Barbara Underhill and Paul Martini were delighted to share with us the story of their memorable gold medal skate at the 1984 World Championships in Ottawa. “For Better or For Worse” cartoonist Lynn Johnston submitted a wonderful story about an encounter with Wayne Gretzky. Cape Breton fiddler Natalie MacMaster shared a very touching story with us, proving she is as delightful offstage as she is on. Kurt Browning sent us a story sharing his unique perspective on skating in the Olympics. Pamela Wallin gave her insight into how patriotic Canadians really are. Toronto Star writer Leslie Scrivener tells us again the story we all carry in our hearts—the legacy of Terry Fox. We are honoured to present you with these and all the other wonderful stories we found. We hope you are as touched and proud reading these stories as we have been compiling and editing them.
There are many stories we have not told in this book. We may not have included a story on a particular theme, person, group of people or Canadian region because we either couldn’t find a story appropriate for a Chicken Soup for the Soul collection, or we couldn’t find the writer of a story we did have.
If you have or know of a story that you feel should have been in the book but wasn’t, we invite you to submit it to us for consideration for a second edition.
That being said, we feel we have assembled a wonderful collection of stories that all Canadians can truly be proud of. And while there are many diverse stories from ordinary people exploring universal themes of love, compassion, forgiveness, family, acceptance and courage, there is one golden thread that weaves its way through this book—sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. That thread is the passionate love all Canadians have for this land that offers them so much, this land they call home. In the end, these stories are not about language, culture, politics, or where one’s parents or grandparents came from. T
hese stories are about the love, pride and gratitude we all share in being Canadian. We hope these tales will in turn inspire you, touch your heart and make you smile.
From our hearts to yours, we are thrilled and proud to offer you Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul.
Share with Us
We would love to hear your reactions to the stories in this book. Please let us know what your favourite stories were and how they affected you.
We also invite you to send us stories you would like to see published in future editions of Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul. You can send us either stories you have written or stories written by others. Please send submissions to:
Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul
2-9225 Leslie Street
Richmond Hill
ON Canada L4B 3H6
Fax: 905-881-8996
Phone: 905-881-8995 x28
[email protected] You can also access e-mail or find a current list of planned books at the Chicken Soup for the Soul Web site at www.chickensoup.com. Find out about our Internet service at www.clubchickensoup.com.
We hope you enjoy reading this book as much as we enjoyed compiling, editing and writing it.
I Am a Canadian
I am a Canadian,
free to speak without fear,
free to worship in my own way,
free to stand for what I think right,
free to oppose what I believe wrong,
or free to choose those
who shall govern my country.
This heritage of freedom
I pledge to uphold
for myself and all mankind.
Former Prime Minister John G. Diefenbaker
1
ON BEING
CANADIAN
One thing you know about Canadian people is they’re proud to be Canadian. My kids were born in the United States. They should be proud of their country and they are, but I’m a Canadian. I was born in Canada and I’m proud of my country. That never leaves you.
Wayne Gretzky
A Canadian’s Story
I liken Canada to a garden . . . a garden into which have been transplanted the hardiest and brightest flowers from many lands, each retaining in its new environment the best of the qualities for which it was loved and prized in its native land.
Former Prime Minister John G. Diefenbaker
One day when I was seventeen my best friend, Shelley, invited me to her home after school to meet her grandmother. When we arrived, a slim, fragile-looking, elderly lady with white hair and many wrinkles greeted us warmly. In a thick accent she invited us to help ourselves to freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. While we ate she asked many questions about our personal lives and listened intently to our answers. We both felt her genuine interest, and in spite of her accent, we understood her clearly. Her piercing, deep-blue eyes sparkled as we talked, and her smile radiated a lifetime of inner strength and integrity. She captivated me.
She noted how fortunate we were to have such beautiful clothes, nice furniture and time to spend with our friends. When she excused herself for a moment, Shelley and I stared at each other in astonishment at her grandmother’s appreciation of all the little things that we took for granted. In a whisper, Shelley explained that her grandmother had grown up in the Ukraine, where life had been very difficult. When she returned to the room, Grandma expressed her great pleasure in seeing all her children and grandchildren able to go to school and learn. When the conversation turned to my approaching eighteenth birthday, Grandma was thrilled and exclaimed how excited I must be at the thought of voting for the first time. Frankly, I had thought of all sorts of good things I would be able to do when I was eighteen, but voting wasn’t one of them. I told her so.
A little saddened by my cynicism, Shelley’s grandmother asked in her broken English if I would like to hear the story of her journey to Canada. She said she had not shared the details with many people, including Shelley. When I agreed, she began to tell her tale.
“Grandpa, myself and our six children lived in extremely modest conditions in the Ukraine. Everyone in the family who was old enough had to work. Our two eldest children were eight and ten. They did odd jobs for people who paid them with food rather than money.
“The other four children were too young to work, so they helped me with the household chores. The government did not want the people to be independent and think for themselves, and to ensure this, they prevented us from attending any religious services and forced us to worship the government. They also banned reading and writing, closed all the schools and destroyed all the books that disagreed with their oppressive philosophy. Anyone caught not complying with the new, closed-minded edict was put in prison. In spite of these severe consequences, those who knew how to read and write secretly taught those who did not. Many people managed to hide some of their beloved classic books before they could be destroyed.
“Many villagers dreamed of immigrating to Canada where they believed people were allowed to make choices and work hard to make a life for themselves. Although we were prevented from leaving with threats of imprisonment, many people attempted to flee because we were starving in the homeland. Grandpa and I and our six children were among those who made plans to escape.
“Our village was twenty miles from the border. We would have to walk and sneak past the border guards. On the other side of the border, we would be met by people to whom we paid our life’s savings to help us travel across the land to the ocean, and across the ocean to Canada.
“Crossing the border was extremely dangerous—the guards were ordered to shoot anyone caught trying to pass illegally. For this part of the journey, we were on our own.
“Late at night, taking only what we could carry, we left our home and quietly stole out of the village. Because three of our children were still quite small, it took us five days to reach the border. When we arrived, we hid in the trees on the edge of a mile-wide open area that ran along it. We planned to wait until dark before trying to cross.
“As the sun began to set, my husband and I carried the three smallest children while our other three joined hands. We could see the border and began to run across that mile-wide open area towards freedom. Just as we reached the borderline a bright spotlight flashed on and caught in its glare the two older boys running with their younger brother, who was literally suspended in midair between them. A loud voice boomed over a bullhorn— ‘Halt! Immediately!’—but my sons paid no attention and continued to run.
“Gunshots rang out and continued even after we had crossed into the neutral country on the other side. The light still followed us and suddenly found me as I ran carrying the baby. When our eldest son, John, saw this, he let go of his two brothers and yelled for them to run. Then John began to draw the guards’ attention by jumping, yelling and waving his hands. The bright light settled on him as the rest of us finally reached the protective barrier of the trees on the other side of the border. As we turned back to look, several shots rang out. John, my ten-year-old son, fell to the ground and lay still.
“Thankfully, the guards left my son there, because he lay outside their jurisdiction. Your grandpa crawled out and dragged John back to where we were huddled in the trees. My child had been hit by one of the bullets, and he died there in my arms. We wept in agony, but our hearts were filled with pride for his heroism. If not for John’s selfless actions, the baby and I would have certainly been shot. He gave his life that night so the rest of us might live.
“After we buried John, with heavy hearts we continued on and eventually found our way to Canada, and so to freedom.”
When Shelley’s grandmother finished her story, I had tears in my eyes.
“Since arriving in Canada I have enjoyed my freedom immensely,” she continued. “I take great pleasure in every single choice I have made—including the time I took an evening job scrubbing floors so that Shelley’s father could go to university.”
As she clutched at her heart, th
e dear lady then expressed great pride in her second oldest son, who was eight during the family’s flight to freedom. Out of gratitude for their new life in Canada, and because of the horror of seeing his brother shot down so long ago, he had enlisted in the Canadian army to defend his new country with his life.
Grandma confided that she valued her right to vote as very dear to her heart and had never missed her chance to have “her say.” She told me then that she viewed voting as not only a right and a privilege, but also a responsibility. By voting, she believed she could ensure that Canada would be run by good people and never by the kind of people who would shoot and kill someone making a choice.
My life changed profoundly that day, as I looked through the window that this special woman had opened into a different world. I made my own commitment on the spot to seize every opportunity I was ever given to vote. And I began to understand, in some small way, the passion that motivates our Canadian soldiers, who volunteer to defend our country.
When Grandma finished her story, Shelley, who had become very quiet, softly asked, “Who was the baby you were carrying when you ran across the border, Grandma?”
As Grandma caressed her cheek, she replied, “The baby was your father, my dear.”
Pat Fowler
Sherwood Park, Alberta
We Stand on Guard for Thee
Pollsters say Canadians are depressed right now. They say we’re discouraged. Don’t be. Think of all the good things we have. Think of how lucky we are. To be Canadian.
Gary Lautens, November 1990
Some time ago during my vacation, I had the pleasure of travelling to Europe to tour the various regions of France. Our tour group was comprised of forty-five travellers from a variety of countries. My three friends and myself made up the Canadian contingent on the bus.