Welcome Talal and Family

This time...a video is enough.

Would You Like Some Tea?

The first welcome! Omar and his family at the airport

A diminutive woman sits in a waiting room full of people all inspired to reach for the dream of Canada.  The little woman will know only her family, grandchildren, a son and daughter in law when she lands there.  Her way of life is gone but she has learned a new one these past four years that she can tolerate. The room is small for five people, the roof leaks-no the roof is non-existent but the plastic her son has fastened drains it so that only one side of the room gets wet now.  She is going for them you know, not for herself. At seventy years old she does not care to change her lot in life but her son dreams of great things for his family so she will go too.  He firmly believes Canada will give them opportunities they cannot have in Lebanon. Life is hard for a refugee here, they are not permitted to work and hopelessness permeates the temporary shelters and camps that house those who fled from the raging Syrian civil war.

A young man and his family sit beside her.  The children are beautiful. Two boys and a sparkling little girl with enough personality for ten. This family is also going to Canada and their father's reasons are the same as that of her son's. He wants a home, a job, and most of all a future for his family. His wife is pretty, occupied with the children as they wait their appointments.

"Would you like some tea," The dad, Omar offers and the lady declines. Time passes and the  young man and family are called to their meeting. When they are done he sees the lady again and she also is finished, He offers to escort her home, again she declines. They're going to Canada if all goes well. 

They do not know where they will go in Canada until they get on that plane. When asked where he wishes to go, Omar says "Vancouver." He once had a friend go there, it's the only Canadian Place he has heard of.

The lady is told when she arrives in Toronto that her final destination is Winsor, Ontario, or as she understood, "Twinsor."

There are none of us born in this country who can understand the strength and bravery it takes to move to an entirely new country, clear across the world, where you cannot understand or speak the language and where you will know no other person save those who go with you.  That you go there because you have heard it has opportunity and freedom and a future. You go because you have no hope of these things where you are. We can never know but we must try to understand,

On Friday I met Omar again for the first time since welcoming him in at the airport.  He didn't go to Vancouver. That lucky man and his family ended up in Gander. And they're so happy about that I don't think they will leave for Vancouver anytime soon.  We had a long conversation that amazes me, partly because, in the course of a couple of months, he has learned English so well we are able to converse but mostly because I realize that, communication barrier broken, we have an exceptional new Canadian here in Gander.

This event, by the way, is a potluck for the second family who are now settled in Gander. The purpose is to welcome them and the committee members from Gander and some from Lewisporte are in attendance as well as a large number of the very important volunteers and the translator.

Omar tells me about his job, and how being at the cash and working at Louis Gees has helped his English improve. He tells me an adorable anecdote about how his five year old daughter Raghad picked up English so quickly that she was telling them what to do and where to go, translating from the English to Arabic really early. The boys, too, are learning and his wife, too and will have much more time for lessons once the kids start school in a couple of weeks.

He also tells me that his driver's licence has been renewed in Canada and he has secured a car. You can see the delight in his eyes at this.  Men love their cars no matter their heritage.  Plus people like to support their own families and while the kindness of strangers is a blessing, the ability to provide and to give is a greater one.  This kind man will provide support and companionship for the new family.

There is a fuss in a little while. The translator from the Lewisporte Committee has arrived with Talika, the grandmother of the family moving there, The family has been delayed by bureaucracy but Grandma, as we all call her,  is here already settled into Lewisporte and waiting.  She's a delightful and funny lady, always up for a bit of sport and while she's worried about her family, she has taken up some quilting and is learning English also.

"I know her," Omar tells me, his eyes alight with his story.  Yes of course, there has been another gathering I have missed.

"No," he explains, his English remarkably unbroken,"I met her in Lebanon at the office where we go to apply to come to Canada, I offered her tea and a ride home. She said no.  When I saw her last time I said to my wife, that is the lady from the office and my wife asked her and yes, she remembers I brought her tea."

I question him? His English has really improved but surely I misunderstood.

No he assures me, it is true. They met in Lebanon prior to moving to Gander and Lewisporte.

There are 1,033, 513 registered Syrian refugees in Lebanon,  30, 275 people have traveled to Canada and 18942 been processed but await final processing and travel.  hundreds of cities and towns are involved in aiding in their resettlement including Gander and Lewisporte. And these two people whose paths crossed that day now live less than an hour from each other clear across the planet.

We knew that Talika hadn't gone to Twinsor, Ontario.  We agreed to take her here with her family but she hadn't been informed of her destination until she was in Toronto.

I firmly believe that this coincidence is a sign that everything is going as it's meant to go even if it's not quite as we expected.

It is my firmest belief that Talika's family will arrive soon.  I watch her while she sits next to Omar's wife, her eyes light up as her children come up and speak, their bright eyes and animated faces delighting her grandmother's heart.

Meanwhile we also await Talal and his family from Turkey who have a travel date in late September. We are connected already through Facebook with him.

This is a big wide world with billions of people and it is easy to disconnect from a mass but at the simplest level, individual to individual we are all the same, all with the same needs and stories and always we make connections to each other at that level, some fleeting, some long lasting.

Omar was kind in his brief meeting with Talika.  He did not know he would ever see her again yet he was kind. There is lesson enough in that alone but the story of their brief meeting highlights that our interactions with others my not always be without purpose.

Plus, it is always reassuring to see a familiar face from home in a strange place.  As a Newfoundlander who spent time away I know all too well the value of that!

Enjoy your day,

Carolyn

Would You Like Some Tea?

The first welcome! Omar and his family at the airport

A diminutive woman sits in a waiting room full of people all inspired to reach for the dream of Canada.  The little woman will know only her family, grandchildren, a son and daughter in law when she lands there.  Her way of life is gone but she has learned a new one these past four years that she can tolerate. The room is small for five people, the roof leaks-no the roof is non-existent but the plastic her son has fastened drains it so that only one side of the room gets wet now.  She is going for them you know, not for herself. At seventy years old she does not care to change her lot in life but her son dreams of great things for his family so she will go too.  He firmly believes Canada will give them opportunities they cannot have in Lebanon. Life is hard for a refugee here, they are not permitted to work and hopelessness permeates the temporary shelters and camps that house those who fled from the raging Syrian civil war.

A young man and his family sit beside her.  The children are beautiful. Two handsome boys and a sparkling little girl with enough personality for ten. This family is also going to Canada and their father's reasons are the same as that of her son's. He wants a home, a job, and most of all a future for his family. His wife is pretty, occupied with the children as they wait their appointments.

"Would you like some tea," The dad, Omar offers and the lady declines. Time passes and the  young man and family are called to their meeting. When they are done he sees the lady again and she also is finished, He offers to escort her home, again she declines. They're going to Canada if all goes well. 

They do not know where they will go in Canada until they get on that plane. When asked where he wishes to go, Omar says "Vancouver." He once had a friend go there, it's the only Canadian Place he has heard of.

The lady is told when she arrives in Toronto that her final destination is Winsor, Ontario, or as she understood, "Twinsor."

There are none of us born in this country who can understand the strength and bravery it takes to move to an entirely new country, clear across the world, where you cannot understand or speak the language and where you will know no other person save those who go with you.  That you go there because you have heard it has opportunity and freedom and a future. You go because you have no hope of these things where you are. We can never know but we must try to understand,

On Friday I met Omar again for the first time since welcoming him in at the airport.  He didn't go to Vancouver. That lucky man and his family ended up in Gander. And they're so happy about that I don't think they will leave for Vancouver anytime soon.  We had a long conversation that amazes me, partly because, in the course of a couple of months, he has learned English so well we are able to converse but mostly because I realize that, communication barrier broken, we have an exceptional new Canadian here in Gander.

This event, by the way, is a potluck for the second family who are now settled in Gander. The purpose is to welcome them and the committee members from Gander and some from Lewisporte are in attendance as well as a large number of the very important volunteers and the translator.

Omar tells me about his job, and how being at the cash and working at Luigi's has helped his English improve. He tells me an adorable anecdote about how his five year old daughter Raghad picked up English so quickly that she was telling them what to do and where to go, translating from the English to Arabic really early. The boys, too, are learning and his wife, too and will have much more time for lessons once the kids start school in a couple of weeks.

He also tells me that his driver's licence has been renewed in Canada and he has secured a car. You can see the delight in his eyes at this.  Men love their cars no matter their heritage.  Plus people like to support their own families and while the kindness of strangers is a blessing, the ability to provide and to give is a greater one.  This kind man will provide support and companionship for the new family.

There is a fuss in a little while. The translator from the Lewisporte Committee has arrived with Talika, the grandmother of the family moving there, The family has been delayed by bureaucracy but Grandma, as we all call her,  is here already settled into Lewisporte and waiting.  She's a delightful and funny lady, always up for a bit of sport and while she's worried about her family, she has taken up some quilting and is learning English also.

"I know her," Omar tells me, his eyes alight with his story.  Yes of course, there has been another gathering I have missed.

"No," he explains, his English remarkably unbroken,"I met her in Lebanon at the office where we go to apply to come to Canada, I offered her tea and a ride home. She said no.  When I saw her last time I said to my wife, that is the lady from the office and my wife asked her and yes, she remembers I brought her tea."

I question him? His English has really improved but surely I misunderstood.

No he assures me, it is true. They met in Lebanon prior to moving to Gander and Lewisporte.

There are 1,033, 513 registered Syrian refugees in Lebanon,  30, 275 people have traveled to Canada and 18942 been processed but await final processing and travel.  hundreds of cities and towns are involved in aiding in their resettlement including Gander and Lewisporte. And these two people whose paths crossed that day now live less than an hour from each other clear across the planet.

We knew that Talika hadn't gone to Twinsor, Ontario.  We agreed to take her here with her family but she hadn't been informed of her destination until she was in Toronto.

I firmly believe that this coincidence is a sign that everything is going as it's meant to go even if it's not quite as we expected.

It is my firmest belief that Talika's family will arrive soon.  I watch her while she sits next to Omar's wife, her eyes light up as her children come up and speak, their bright eyes and animated faces delighting her grandmother's heart.

Meanwhile we also await Talal and his family from Turkey who have a travel date in late September. We are connected already through Facebook with him.

This is a big wide world with billions of people and it is easy to disconnect from a mass but at the simplest level, individual to individual we are all the same, all with the same needs and stories and always we make connections to each other at that level, some fleeting, some long lasting.

Omar was kind in his brief meeting with Talika.  He did not know he would ever see her again yet he was kind. There is lesson enough in that alone but the story of their brief meeting highlights that our interactions with others my not always be without purpose.

Plus, it is always reassuring to see a familiar face from home in a strange place.  As a Newfoundlander who spent time away I know all too well the value of that!

Enjoy your day,

Carolyn

A Coordinated Effort

It is early on Sunday afternoon and the storm that has raged these past two nights has begun to dwindle. I have spent much of the morning working on some things for the upcoming fundraisers (See posters below for details)

As I work here others, in their homes or out and about, are doing things related to this important effort.

Everybody has their tasks, some big, some small but all equally important and valued. As I was taking a break, cleaning up my dishes my thoughts went back these past eight weeks to when we first started to come together and to the past six weeks, two days since we were matched with our Syrian family who arrive any day.

And I was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude.

How can one not be grateful to live in such a community? It is impossible to not be grateful for such kind and giving hearts as those that have set aside their own personal agendas to work for no money to help better the lives of people they don't even know? And those who have donated so much money to the cause. We are closing in our our fund raising goal and are confident it will be met in time. Such generosity. It's a humbling and remarkable thing to behold.

The simple meaning of "coordinate" in the Miriam Webster dictionary is

"to make arrangements so that two or more people or groups of people can work together properly and well."

Well that's happening!

I finally had the opportunity to help out at the apartment on Friday. There was a flurry of activity, of people dropping what they were doing to bring large appliances, people cleaning, painting, laying flooring, shopping and pretty much having a blast doing all of that as a team. We accomplished much and we'll finish in time. It's not where my main focus as been but it was remarkable to see things moving forward in such a fashion. I sense that once the remaining flooring is in things will accelerate and it will be complete in short order.

I was looking for photos to go along with this post and I saw something that said "Have an attitude of gratitude" and I thought, that's exactly what we have here.

That, and so much more.

49.245. and -55.0592 mark the intersection of the longitude and latitude lines of Lewisporte, NL. Pretty valuable numbers in a town that boasts the largest marina in Atlantic Canada!

These coordinates are where you can find a dedicated group of volunteers and an entire community awaiting that moment when we get to meet our new friends.

Though our attitude of gratitude is not tied specifically to our longitude and latitude, and our coordinated efforts have no connection to our coordinates(see what I did there?) it is with sincere heart I thank this community, Lewisporte, for every moment, every penny and every prayer given to this effort.

I hope to see all of you at our community breakfast and bake sale on April 2. It is my fondest hope that everyone know how much they have mattered and will continue to matter to our newest community members when they arrive.

Anytime Now!

Six weeks ago the Lewisporte Refugee Outreach received a call that a family had been matched to us. We were told then that they would arrive is six to eight weeks so..anytime now!

And the biggest development was that last week we were asked if Grandma could come with the family. I'm not sure exactly why but it seems she was going to be sent elsewhere in Canada and when they were confirming travel plans for the family a cross-reference discovered this.

So they called to see if the family could be kept together and we said yes.

We have been so busy with meetings and training and fundraising plans so time flew by.

Now the focus is on the most important piece of all. The apartment. I haven't been actively involved in the renovations but many others have.

It's close to complete and I'm confident that things will be finished in time.

We're told we'll get two days notice and then we'll be welcoming them at the airport. It is so exciting to consider meeting them and to welcome them.

Sometimes, I wonder what they're expecting and how far from those expectations will we be?   I guess we'll know...

Anytime now!

Magic and Hard Work!

There are those who sit and observe the magic of the world. And then there are those who get off their rear ends and make magic! I was fortunate enough to be taught from an early age that the magic of the world is not illusory but instead what appears to be mystical is often the result of the hard work of somebody somewhere who did something.

 I remember walking into an event once that I and many others had worked on for weeks. Somebody observed that it had all come together so quickly "like Magic." I smiled and left her there in her delusion. In my pocket was a speech designed to express gratitude to all of those who had made it all possible through weeks and weeks of time and effort and sacrifice and at that point she would understand that the magic didn't happen but that the magic was made.

 All over this province-and country-Canadians are working very hard to help people they don't know find a better life. They're participating in the fundamental lesson we were taught in kindergarten, or perhaps even earlier-that we should share.

That they would take the precious moments of their lives to do that is magical. I am constantly impressed by those who spend their lives in the aid of their fellow humans. A few of them in this town got together on Friday and made others a priority and it was an incredibly fun day.

We used our creativity to make our fundraiser special..we called it the "We Knead Dough" fundraiser and renamed some common baked goods to "Two Fam Jam Jams" and "May as well get used to the Snow..balls!" The ladies & one gentlemen(our MHA Derek Bennett) think they're baking but they're really making magic. And yes it was work but the dollars earned will be combined with other dollars raised and the total will aid in the efforts to help 25000 new Canadians get here to start their lives. These sorts of efforts are happening in communities all over the country.  It is such a heartwarming effort.  And here are the results of our day in the kitchen.

Abracadabra!

Two Fam Jam Jams

For Sale!

Well worth the effort!

Special Labels so you know who you're helping with your purchase

One of the boxes full of the delicious baked goods!

What would you Take?

We watched this video in church today. It needs no commentary.

A Child's Plea--in Song.

I usually do not post twice in the same day. But this is something too valuable. When the children speak we must listen. Oh that this would be seen by those who cause the strife in Syria and that it would melt their hearts so that the fighting would cease. Meanwhile let it warm our hearts.  When a child has such pain we must sooth it.

Video: I didn't Even Know You

Sometimes it is difficult for a writer to find the right words. That is when you wait for somebody else's words to say what you want to say.

Here is a video I watched this morning.  I am so grateful for this beautiful song and excited to have discovered a new singer/songwriter unfamiliar to me prior.

You didn't even know me. Do we have to know each other to be a sister or brother to each other?  The value of a person isn't determined by who they know but by who they are. Such a beautiful sentiment explored in a beautiful song.

Tick Tock Tick Tock-Let's Learn Arabic!

The beginning..Hello!

On January 22 we were informed that a family had been identified that would come to Lewisporte. We were told they would arrive in six to eight weeks.  It is exactly three weeks later today(Feb 12) so that means three to five weeks!

Naz, our Arabic Instructor!

It's like going for a six hour drive and you realize about three hours into it that you are now on a three hour drive. Time gets away as the pavement disappears beneath the wheels.

So the eight week mark is around March 18th. That's not very long! And it could be as soon as March 4th Three weeks from today.

Yes indeed,we're chomping through time like a bunch of hungry langoliers!

The beautiful Arabic Alphabet.  Always written cursive & from right to left

As the clock ticks, we are coming closer and closer to the moment when we welcome Muhammed, Fatima, Moussa and Rayane to Lewisporte. Time is paradoxically slow and fast all at once.

Because we cannot wait to meet them.

I think of them more than anything. In all the committees and meetings and forms and letters, it is that family that is in my thoughts the most.

I wonder, what are they thinking now? Have they been able to learn where Lewisporte is in Canada? Do they think Toronto and Montreal when they think of our country and do they have any inkling that the home they'll be coming to is about as different from those cities as the moon ?  (I also worry that they will become Leaf's fans as Reverend Art Elliott suggests or will we be able to protect them from such folly!  )

I imagine their nervousness.  I cannot really.  I try to understand that they will also have sadness because surely they have made friends in the camps that they will leave behind.  The children will have made friends and will miss them. It has to be one more difficult leg of a painful but necessary journey. But there will be hope also, and much excitedment because it is Canada.

I feel the privilege of my citizenship keenly these days and feel the responsibility of it even more so. I've been given too much, more needs to be shared.

We have spent a lot of time being concerned about  cultural sensitivities and what we can do to ensure we do not inadvertently offend our new friends.  I asked a few of my friends who have immigrated from other places and they all said a variation of the same thing. They chose Canada as their future country because they wished to be Canadian. Their understanding of Canada is that more than anything we are accepting of differences and so to be Canadian they must accept our differences. So they came here with minds open to trying to understand why we do the things we do.

I think we simply need to be kind and compassionate and considerate. Those are things that are shared among cultures and practicing these things cannot steer us in the wrong direction.

My friend Sabhira once told me that she celebrates Christmas, though she is Muslim, because most  Canadians do and she wants to be a part of everything Canadian.  She loved the idea of Santa and described how surprised her children were their first Christmas morning.  It was during the fast of Ramadan when she told me that story and I think our conversation made her hungry because as she spoke she decided then and there that they would have a Christmas type turkey dinner immediately after the fast. They liked Christmas so much they decided to do it twice!

As time passes we are not idle.  Things are getting done!  Last night was a fantastic meeting in which we unanimously voted to partner with the Penticostal Church here in town to bring a second family in. This is a wonderful partnership with us being one committee, connected towards a common goal.  To bring TWO families to Lewisporte from Syria.

It changes things in that our goal to raise $12000 becomes a goal to raise $42,000 but with the need for added financial resources comes a huge cache of human resources from a church that has a reputation both locally and world wide for humanitarian efforts.

So the challenge is greater but the reward is multiplied! Piece of cake, we got this!

As the committee has grown and refined into the working groups, branching off into different subcommittees, it has been a remarkable feeling to bask in the positive energy that is all around. This group of people are truly good . Deep in their hearts is a calling to do something, to be the solution.  It's a calling everyone shares and I feel us all bonding in this common good.

Meanwhile, we are learning some basic Arabic so that we can at least greet the newest members of our community in their language. I am focusing on "Welcome" which is phonetically spoken Ahlaan wa Sahalan in English. The room was full and the teacher, Naz who speaks three languages and is originally from Iraq, was fun to learn from. It is a $2 donation to come to learn. Naz will help with translation when the family arrives and is working on some fundraising efforts that I'll assist her with. I think our partnership will become a fast friendship as we work together.

If you're in Lewisporte the Arabic Lessons are Thursdays at 6:30 in St. Matthews United Church in the Sunday school room.

We are getting ready and I, personally, cannot wait to say

Hogan's Heroes-the spinoff!

Homs, Syria After and Before the civil war

Homs, Syria Before and After the civil war

"I am from Homs.. and if I want to describe how is my city looking like now, I will say it is just like Berlin or Stalingrad in 1945.. completely destroyed city… the house where I was born is not existing anymore. What remained of the city is just less than 40% while the rest 60% is abandon areas … city of ghosts."

~Talal 

             
These are the words of Talal. He is one of the refugees that the Gander Refugee Outreach has committed to bringing to Gander when they made their plans to bring five families to the town.  

Of the five families, four are unknown. But Talal's family is different because he has a connection to Gander through his friend Kathleen and her husband Peter, the Hogans. The  others will be matched with Gander Refugee Outreach by the Association for New Canadians. Three applications have been placed and we await the news of who they are and when they'll arrive.

Without going into the intricacies of sponsorship, other than the fact that we know this family through their Gander friends, the needs are the same. There must be funds raised and a home secured.  The needs for this family are included in the total fundraising amount. 

There is a blizzard here this morning and all of my appointments were cancelled.  So I spent the morning working on Lewisporte and Gander Refugee Outreach and concluded it by having a conversation on Facebook talking to Talal in Turkey which by my estimation is 5.5 hours ahead of us.

It is one thing to hear of a war through the media, it is quite another to have a first hand review of it from a person who has lived through the reality of its horrors.  I vascillate between horror and sadness, anger and relief as I review the accounts I have been sent written by Talal including how he came to be in Turkey. It is a narrative so blunt and real it has shaken me. Others are still living in that horror I think. At this very moment they are there. And it hurts my heart. 

Talal is one of the lucky ones.  It may not appear so at first glance being a refugee but he is. He got out in time and his family is with him.  He is as well off as a refugee can be. But that's not really well off in western terms.

Talal speaks English. He is fluent with just enough residual second language to make each sentence a charming turn of phrase.  But discerning his meaning is easy. 

He has left his aging parents behind and worries constantly for their well being. But his children's future will be secured in Canada, a place he says he has dreamed of since he was ten years old.

"The Prime Minister is a good man," he says, "and very handsome." I have to agree.

"Canada is famous of its equality between all people from the world who living there" he types. I am struck by how proud and grateful I am that this is what he feels Canada is famous for. 

He sends me the family's registration cards that identifies them as refugees. The family is gorgeous and two bright-eyed intelligent little faces look back at me from two of them. Helen is two and Reyad is four.  His children. 

These are educated people, both parents with University degrees in English literature. These are people with spectacular timing who escaped to a nowhere land where they are essentially in limbo.  Canada is their hope. Kathleen Hogan and GRO their beacon on that distant shore.

Talal works. He has managed to support his family with the basics using his language skills and works as a translator. With four other families coming to Gander, two to Lewisporte and one to Bishop's Falls, he is employable. 

They have no rights in Turkey. It's a stopover. They may live there...at least for now. Two and a half million Syrians do. But there is no opportunity. No guarantee they won't be forced to move on.  The children will grow up without rights of citizens. This is something they can never achieve in Turkey.  This is why they dream of Canada. And this is why we've agreed to bring them here.

There is one more element to this story. Kathleen and Peter Hogan. Kathleen and Talal in particular have connected as friends over the past eight years and she has worried as he has lived through these past years. She has celebrated  his joys with him as his family grew and has worried like family when he was under threat in Syria. She celebrated with him when he escaped and she dreams with him of the day they land at Gander airport as Canadians, safe and sound. The Hogans are not people of great means but they are people with great love.  So they're looking for help from the community to help realize the dream of having the family they love come here as soon as possible. 

There is a blog called Gander Families that will carry Talal's stories of his life in Syria so I won't write more on that.  It is a compelling read and I recommend you follow it as it's updated. www.ganderfamilies.wordpress.com . I know it's a silly pun but if you donate you will literally be the Hogans' heroes.     You may donate to the Gander Refugee Outreach by clicking  Contribute Here . 

The following says all there is to say for the millions who are displaced by the Syrian Civil war. They are Talal's words and I think he speaks for himself and his fellow country people in the same situation better than ever I could. 

"I am now in the middle of nowhere .. between earth and sky.. no future for my children and my wife and I in Turkey and we cannot get back and will never get back to Syria even on our bodies." 

~Talal 

(PS. Some of you will get the Hogan's Heroes reference, for the rest of you click here) 

Minutes Taken, Moments Given

Yesterday I wrote up the minutes of the last meeting of the Lewisporte Refugee Outreach (LRO). This isn't one of my favourite jobs and I'm not particularly skilled at it.  While in the meeting I'm always frantically writing the notes and trying to keep track of discussions and so I don't participate in the conversation quite so much and quite often the entire meeting is a practise in recording more so than in absorbing.  But it's a necessary job so that we're not wasting time on who is doing what and I've always considered a highly important task of any committee, just not one I necessary relish myself.

But there is an upside. It is while going through the minutes I'm able to unpack what is really happening in every single meeting. And I'm not referring to the actual events but rather the overarching narrative of this adventure we've decided to take together as a group.

From the moment last Thursday when a new person who has volunteered to help with translation described her first impressions of the west and how we can expect these newcomers to feel,  to the moment another resident shows the little foam hearts and book marks her and another member have painstakingly created as a fundraiser, I am in awe of these people.

People are all ordinary. We might, as humans have a tendency to categorise people as great or regular or even "less than"  but when we break it all down people do ordinary things nearly every day no matter what arbitrary construct we have of them in our minds.

People around here for example pretty much sleep, eat, exercise(or not) care for their families, work, drive to work, drive home, hit the drive thru, watch TV, do some Face booking and Tweeting, play some games, love their friends and start all over the next day. 

But people are extraordinary also. In their hearts.  And the best example of that is when they show up and allow the regular pace of  their lives to be interrupted to fulfil the needs of their community and the world, in an act of kindness and compassion. That is extraordinary. It isn't something everybody does.

Sitting and using scissors is normally considered an ordinary endeavour. Creating something with those scissors that is a tangible example of the remarkable spirit of giving is extraordinary. 

As I wade through, recording and setting up the "action list" I always create to help write the next meeting's agenda I am warmed by the offerings. Not offerings of things and dollars, (though many things and dollars are coming and we need them!) but offerings of time. The world is full of things that will still be in the world when we are not.   But time is something we all have a finite amount of and it is something that will expire for us. So when somebody says "I'll take this task and spend my time doing it for this effort" they are donating their most valuable asset. And that is extraordinary especially given the fact that these people are exceptionally busy to start with.

So in spite of the fact that I don't care for the task and that I'm not skilled at it, I am particularly grateful to take these notes and transcribe them because as I do so I realize that this my opportunity to record not just the minutes, but  some of the moments, of these very special people that I am fortunate enough to know.  

The minutes are taken, but the moments are given. And what could be a greater gift?

The Act of Understanding

Last night was the meeting of the committee. What an incredible show of community spirit with people speaking with such passion about how best to help our new family who will arrive in mere weeks.

It's really important for me to try to keep perspective. This isn't a project.  It's about people. People are not projects.  I try to think of it as preparing for company that is arriving here and that we're just supposed to make them feel at home.  And while I sit and take the minutes and worry about agendas and sit through three hours of meetings which is important so that things are in place to make a successful transition it is important for me to always to bear in mind  that these are human lives with needs that are common to our own.

As a mother the number one desire I have is for my children to be safe and well and to have a home. A few years ago we made the decision to move from Ontario to Newfoundland. With two small children in school it was important for it to be a smooth transition. It was a big move by our standards but relatively small by contrast to the move the Syrian family is undertaking.

 But my desire, which I think I share with all parents, is for the contentment and ease of adjustment when such a move is chosen.

When I try to superimpose my own experiences into the lives of people who have experienced war, I cannot.  Nor can I place their experiences in my mind.   I can imagine the sheer horror and despair knowing your family is in danger and then making the decision to again remove them from what they've known for quite a while but I have been so privileged to never know it and imagining is not experiencing.

I am amazed and humbled by the strength that it takes to move to a country where things are new and different, where you are dependent upon strangers, don't know the language and have no family or friends there.  I am eternally grateful that we are given the opportunity to help.

So how can I fully understand? It's humbling to realize that I can't. The best I can do is guess.

If this were me, as a mother, as a family what would the needs be?

I would want to be able to provide for my children. I would want them to be safe and to meet friends. I would like for them to have as much food as they required.  And I personally would like to prepare it myself. I would like my family to earn its own way as soon as possible to not be beholden to others. My husband would want to work for an income as soon as possible. That would be very important to him. I would want to work for an income also but caring for the children would be a priority.  I would want to make my home comfortable and familiar.  It would be important to me to be able to be a part of the community and to have something to give back. I think I would love to volunteer at local charities that helped others so that I can be a giver too. The ability to share and give would be a huge loss if it were taken so I'd want to reclaim that.  I'd want my children to have opportunity and that would mean school. I would make learning the language a priority and would try to learn it.

And sometimes perhaps I would like to be asked what my needs are. Because I cannot assume that the above paragraph is relevant 100% and cannot guarantee I have not missed something.  People are individuals and families don't fit into a niche. Families need to be able to make their own individual niches and the members of that family then thrive in that comfortable place.

Independence for my family with inclusion and acceptance and support from the community. Pretty much like everybody else right?

It's so simple. All the tasks, training, jobs, assignments and research has the goal of this family becoming an independent entity surrounded by people who love them.  As we focus on the first part of this, doing the work of fundraising and setting up supports for all of the language and education, health and so on there is no doubt in my mind that the amazing people at the meeting last night and the wonderful hospitable residents of Lewisporte will handily take care of the last bit.

This article is a great read and very helpful also. Wise Counsel for First Time Sponsors.

What's in a Name?

Like many of you, I've seen the photos of the camps. Acres of dingy grey tents that line up like grave markers in row upon row, all housing the most vulnerable humans on the planet, those who have been traumatised in the worst possible ways by the horrors of war. In those tents reside families like yours and mine who have been left with no choice but to live in a tent with millions of others, destined to live there until a solution can be found for their plight by others because they do not have the ability to do anything but try to survive until that happens.

When people in the developed nations have hard times..and there are poor among us, it is our neighbours to whom we turn to for assistance. In this province we feed each other and care for each other. In a refugee camp your neighbours are as helpless as you. There is nowhere to turn for aid.  In addition there is no purpose or direction, no room for ambition or improvement and all of this creates a feeling of hopelessness that permeates the canvas tents and pierces the hearts of all who inhabit these hectares of despair.

It is all too easy for us in the developed world to turn our heads and turn off the television. We can click the little x in the corner of the story on our Social media with a sad sigh knowing we simply can't help. Some of us can even justify not doing anything by exclaiming we must help our own first.

Our own? Who are our own? Those who are related to us? Those who look like us? Perhaps our own are those who pray the same as us or who think, like us, that the problem is not ours, it's theirs.  We'll help our own we say..and we do. And there is no fault in this. Helping people is a good thing.

But what if you are not the poor who have neighbours to help? That's a different kind of poverty. The kind with no government supports, with no neighbours with the financial means to provide assistance or extra food to offer a meal.

But what of our responsibility? What of our compassion?

Compassion doesn't have borders, it doesn't see skin colour or religious persuasion. Compassion is a soul feeling not a physical action.

It is though, so easy for humans to not see humanity. It is easy to be blind to the plight of those we do not know simply because we do not know them.  They're nameless and faceless and therefore not human like those who live across the street or down the road.

Every single person in those miles and miles of tents is a person with a life, an experience and a story. And one family at least in those miles and miles now has something new. They have hope.

Mohammed and Fatima will have learned by now that a sponsor group in Lewisporte Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada will be welcoming them to their tiny little town.  Canada!  yes, that miracle of a country  where opportunity is a natural resource and success is only impeded by lack of ambition. Such a dream, our country is. We should see it that way more...look at it through the eyes of the world and that opportunity will be arriving in the form of a family who will arrive here from Syria with that Canada in their hearts and minds. And it will be nothing like they dreamed and so much more!

They will likely have explained this brave move to their children, nine year old Rayane and seven year old Moussa.   All will be nervous about this.  They've been through so much and now to move away once again from all they know. They will have made connections in the camp, formed friendships. There will be more loss as they choose to do what they need to for their own family. It will be emotional.  They have no family in the country and they don't speak the language. I have imagined the call and wondered how they reacted. I know our committee cried when we learned we had a family we   could help. We all cried again when we learned their names.

We are strangers to them. We will be their only support and the responsibility is daunting if I think about it. I don't. I just do what I've committed to do..everything that I can to help. Company's coming and we have to get ready!

So far I really like these people.  Mohammed, Fatima, Rayane and Moussa.  Their names are an introduction, they identify them as people not just abstract and anonymous ideas of people.

We now know their names and it makes all the difference.

Coincidence and Tears-An Introduction

Thursday of last week I saw this article and being involved in effort by this community-Lewisporte, NL to bring a family of Syrian refugees here I was immediately simultaneously overwhelmed by the vastness of the work to be done and more determined than ever to a tiny bit more.  The following Friday morning a meeting with our Member of Parliament Scott Simms and Stephanie McClellan, chair of the Lewisporte Refugee Outreach and donor of her basement apartment for housing we excitedly explained to him that we should hear in perhaps two weeks about our family.

So when a message from Stephanie popped up in my facebook "Are you there?" the last thing I expected to hear was "Ken has a family for us!"  I am not sure why but my response was to start crying. I'm not sure if I was crying for myself, for Stephanie who is so determined to aid these people or for the people who are coming. I replied, I expect a unanimous "YES" but Stephanie expressed the possibility that it might not be as to some special circumstances surrounding the family. I replied, well I'm a "YES" because I could no more say no to this family than if they were at my feet in freezing water reaching their hands towards me for help!

After a while the file with very basic information was sent that gave very little information. The profile gave us this information Father age 49 a painter, Mom age 39, Daughter Age 9, Son age 7. That was pretty much it except for the urgency rating which for this family was listed as "high" out of possible ratings of low, medium and high. I knew that this wasn't frivolous. High meant we needed to help them as soon as possible and I suspect our little town will be really good at that.

There was also another bit of information that jumped out at me.  The Profile is numbered. The File number for this particular family had a series of numbers, three in a row. They were 535.  Coincidentally that is the prefix for the Lewisporte Land line telephone numbers and the inspiration for the title of this blog.

How is it possible to already love this family? I know so little about who they are or what they like but still care so very deeply about OUR family. I think it's because a soul is a soul and can be connected with knowledge of all of the stuff that is wrapped around the soul.  Compassion isn't based upon what a person does or what their name is. Compassion is a feeling of intense caring for humanity without having  much knowledge of persons individually but simply because of the knowing that we are all the same no matter our individual story.

So perhaps it is a coincidence that I saw the story on Lebanon..where this family will come from..and that the file number is 535 like the telephone prefix for the town.  But I prefer to see it as a sign of something that is meant to be. Because coincidence and tears was the overwhelming theme of the moments that I first learned of our new family members and of the moment when I knew I loved them without reservation.