I Light A Candle

It's November, and the air is getting chillier, but I've kept up with my daily walks along the lake close to my house. Recently as I was walking I noticed a clump of feathers lying in the grass. I thought at first it might be a dead bird but on taking a closer look I saw that it was part of a wing, that of a goose. I didn't see any other parts of a goose to indicate it had died. The geese were staging to begin their long journey south. I wondered if a goose with a broken wing would be able to fly. Would the other geese be able to assist it? Probably not.

This broken wing reminded me of someone I knew when we were refugees  in South Germany.  I was a three years old and my little sister was one. Wanda Kellermann was in her early teens and volunteered to help by babysitting my sister and me. We have no memory of that time but our mom often talked about this young girl and how she had enjoyed taking care of us. Although she was only a teen, she suffered from rickets, brought on by lack of proper food. When our family left for Paraguay Wanda was heartbroken and couldn't stop crying. She and her mother and sister stayed on at the camp until they were able to find refuge in Canada. For many years we lost contact with Wanda.

Two bosom pals: Wanda and my sister, Imy.

Years later after I was married and living in Ontario we were visiting with friends. My friend, Helen, received a phone call. When she returned she told me that she had been chatting with someone from Manitoba by the name of Wanda Kellermann. She told me that they had been close friends while at the refugee camp and had kept in contact all these years. My ears perked up. Could it be the same person who loved us and took care of us at the refugee camp? It was! And we had a common friend in Helen, whom I met much later in life. Both of them had that same loving cheerfulness about them and I felt blessed to have known them!

When I moved to Manitoba my sister and I visited Wanda in her apartment. Her arthritis was giving her a lot of pain, but she was cheerful, and so happy to see us! Often we chatted on the phone. She told me that her father had been sent to Siberia by the Communists and she, her sister and her mother had to manage on their own. They made a life for themselves in Canada.

A few days ago I opened the paper to read the obituaries, and to my shock, Wanda's picture was there. She had reached the age of 92 and lived a full and happy life in spite of the daily pain she dealt with. She flew with a broken wing, right into heaven where she had longed to be for some time. Her dear friend, Helen passed away a few years before she did. I hope their spirits have a joyful reunion! I light a candle for the love these two friends had for each other and for the joy they have brought into my life!

We all deal with brokenness and pain, but we can help each other fly! The love we show to even those who are too little to remember is not lost.

A painting by Faith Love-Robertson entitled "Gran & Me"

This little granddaughter is now a teenager. I hope she will fly!

 

Being Human--Being Kind

 Looking out to the back yard this morning as I ate my breakfast, I saw that it was a beautiful October day, so welcome after a couple of rainy days! I decided I would walk to the nearby mall, get some groceries and my flu and Covid immunizations. I have a lovely cart that I take along and every time I go shopping the groceries fit into it perfectly. Unfortunately, the last time I used it, one of the wheels fell off, and I was at a loss as to how to fix it. I couldn't possibly do without it as I sold my car to my grandson. I went to my kind neighbour with it and the next morning it was sitting on my doorstep, ready to be used again!

I went to the drugstore first, as the most important  item was the immunization. I was hoping they would take me as a walk-in. I was told that the pharmacist had several other clients and I might have to make an appointment. However, they would check. The pharmacist kindly agreed to squeeze me in between other appointments. She was  friendly and accommodating and took her time to explain everything to me. In ten minutes everything was done! I bought myself some Lindor chocolates (the dark ones are my favorite) as a treat and went on to the grocery store. 

The grocery  store was really busy, but the clerk, even though she had a lineup, took time to pack my grocery cart for me (the one my neighbour fixed ) and off I went. 

At home, after I put everything away, I thought about the difference kindness makes in my life. These small acts I experienced today show me that people care. I picked up my daily newspaper and read an article about what I had just experienced in my own life. The article was called "being human--by choice." and discussed the children's television host, Fred Rogers:

Mr. Rogers knew that how we treat each other matters, not because it's polite or proper, but because it's how we create the kind of world we actually want to live in. His genius wasn't in the specific lessons he taught, but in how he made kindness, patience, honesty, and gentleness feel like the most essential ways to be human...I see people giving back even when they're struggling themselves. I watch neighbours show up for each other in ways that no one will write articles about. I notice the thoughtful gestures, the way people offer presence and understanding when someone needs it most. These aren't heroic acts. They're the everyday choices  that shape how we experience living together. ..What I find myself wondering is whether we'll choose to make it a priority, whether we'll decide human decency is worth wanting. Carina Blumgrund.

 

I have experienced many other acts of kindness from strangers, from my own family and from my church family: A sister who lets me know whenever she goes to Costco, daughters who call me daily, people who give me rides to church, my pastor who just mentioned a book by one of my favorite authors, and had it in my mail box the next Sunday... it's causing serious sleep deprivation!

Mourning and Dancing

 

The month of September has been so lovely with the milder temperatures, the stunning sunsets, the geese staging on the lake, birds at the feeder, etc. There is also a whiff of melancholy, the knowledge that these days are fleeting and winter will greet us before we know it. It has its own beauty of course, but can we hang on to these lovely autumn days, just a bit longer, please?

Bois d'esprit, a park close to my house

I decided (with some trepidation) to participate in our church retreat at a church camp. I'm still learning how to navigate the social activities without my partner of 55 years. It has been a learning curve...However, I need not have worried, I felt loved and accepted, and enjoyed every minute! 

Back at home, reminiscing about the event, I realized that I was the second oldest person there! That was also the spot I occupied in my biological family consisting of eight of us siblings! I had an older brother who mostly absented himself from family responsibilities; two younger brothers who made some outrageous claims just for the shock effect--didn't work, as I caught on to their games quickly; four younger sisters who loved my stories and listened for a while, then got busy making or imagining their own stories. Hmmm...Much like  my church family, actually...so I felt quite at home.

I hope I have gained some wisdom over the years! Mostly I have learned from the children, who in their innocence have so much to teach us.  

What are they looking at?

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Faith in the Future

It has been a beautiful summer filled with family time at my home and at a cottage we rent every summer for a week, celebrating several August birthdays, visiting a couple of Folklorama pavilions,  time at the beach, and sharing my story with a seniors day club.  Perhaps my reluctance to write my August blog post has to do with the fact that summer is on its way out and I want it to last longer.  

My daughter and I recently spent a day at The Leaf, a spectacular indoor horticultural attraction at Assiniboine Park, here in Winnipeg. I was especially looking forward to the Butterfly Garden which had been closed for a while. I was not disappointed! The sign at the entrance (below) seemed particularly appropriate for my mood of not looking forward to change--the seasonal kind, but also the personal!

 

I was reminded of a time at the cottage when I watched a butterfly work its way through a chrysalis. It was awesome! I was captivated by the beauty of its transformation. It did not occur to me that this butterfly might live for a year at the most, its main focus being that of finding a mate and laying eggs.  Since  becoming an octogenarian I have been more aware of the brevity of life.

 

Winnipeg Free Press Columnist, Rebecca Chambers asks the question: "What would it mean to speak our fears out loud? What is the role of people with a megaphone or microphone, people with ink and printing presses and web domains, when the dread creeps up on us and the voices of the past reach our ears with whispered and urgent warnings of how fragile we are, how quickly things can change, and how persistent the evil and neglect of this world is?"

Hope, Tempered by Fire

 

July 27th of this year was World Day for Grandparents and the Elderly. In anticipation of this special day Pope Leo wrote that "hope is a constant source of joy, whatever our age", adding, "when that hope has also been tempered by fire over the course of a long life, it proves a source of deep happiness." Pope Leo encourages the elderly to hope, affirming that even in old age, everyone is able to love and to pray. "Our affection for our loved ones...does not fade when our strength wanes" but instead "revives our energy and brings us hope and comfort." 

Recently my daughter, in charge of a seniors' day club, asked me to speak to them on the topic of "People on the move." Since I'm a poster child for that subject I was happy to oblige, using examples from my own life as a child refugee and later as a church worker in the Congo. 

I did the presentation twice and since I was dependent on my daughter for transportation I spent the whole day there each time and had lunch with the members. I was profoundly moved by this experience and couldn't stop thinking about it.  Many of the members had fairly major physical challenges. One person enjoyed a successful and busy career as an ophthalmologist, but after his stroke he had to have a catheter bag and each move he made proved to be a challenge. A former history professor had Parkinson's and could not speak above a whisper. Yet here they were, socializing and relating as best they could under the circumstances! That takes courage and resilience! So does working with them, encouraging  and helping them  cheerfully and patiently.

Christine and her co worker setting up a challenging game.

Christine, centre, and I with some happy members working on a craft 

A few weeks later I had the opposite experience, spending a week at a cottage with my children and seven of my amazing grandchildren. 

One of my grandchildren sent me this beautiful photo of a dragonfly. To me it is a reminder to meet life's challenges, embrace change and live in the moment.

Abandoned

Recently, on one of my walks along the lake I was surprised to come upon one small gosling sitting by itself. I have never seen any of them without their parents, but there it was, looking lonely and small. I thought maybe it was hurt, so I nudged it with my foot.

 When I poked it, the little gosling got up and trudged along on the sidewalk. 

I followed it for a while, then saw a goose family coming in from the lake. I picked up the little gosling and took it to the edge of the lake, hoping maybe they would take it in with their own family. I have heard that geese will do that. Sadly, they ignored it and went back into the lake again without it. I left the gosling at the edge of the lake, but couldn't stop thinking about it. The next day when I went for my walk I wondered what had happened to that little lonely gosling. It wasn't until I got to the end of the lake that I saw something that gave me hope. 

I saw a pair of geese with just one gosling. Perhaps none of theirs hatched and  they took pity on this lost one and adopted it. 

The picture of the lonely little gosling stayed with me. That could have been my story. I was born during the German occupation in Ukraine in 1943. The Germans were defeated and my parents, my two year old brother and I, a five month old, left Ukraine by train. We ended up in a refugee camp in German occupied Poland. The Germans treated us well. There were lots of young mothers with babies. The director of the camp decided that infants must be separated from their families in another building to avoid the spread of disease. Several nurses were assigned to look after us at night, but our mothers could not see us until the next morning. 

My mother and I are in the second row, fourth from the right. 

It must have been difficult for these mothers to leave their babies in the hands of strangers. The babies  had to adjust to not feeding on demand as well. I have a fairly large scar left by a heating lamp that got too close to my skin when I was treated for a sore, probably due to a lack of diaper change. 

In today's newspaper I read the following:

"Israel's military campaign has killed over 4,000 people in Hamas-run Gaza, mostly women and children ...and left people almost completely reliant on foreign aid". 

I know why I can't forget that little gosling. It reminds me of the horrors I see on the news every night-- children in the Gaza strip, sore and bleeding, desperately holding up empty bowls for food, or Ukrainian children taken from their parents... that could have been me!

Fly Away

 

It always makes me  happy when I see the geese arrive in early spring. Seeing them fly so freely makes me wish that I had wings! Once they are on the ground they seem more awkward. They walk gingerly on the lake which still has a coating of ice, but their instinct  tells them that spring is on the way.

  One morning, on an early spring walk in April, I noticed a goose sitting right at the edge of the lake, just a few feet from the public sidewalk. Another goose stood guard, chasing away any suspected predators. I soon realized it was a mother goose and her mate, who was protecting her and the future offspring! 

One day I noticed the mother goose was not sitting on the nest and I cautiously went closer and took a look. I saw a lot of feathers covering the eggs. I envied the goose, not for having wings this time, but for being able to just sit on the eggs for one month instead of carrying the fetus inside her body for nine months like I did!

At the end of April my goose watching was interrupted . I was offered a chance to fly for a visit to my children and grandchildren in Ontario. I wish I could have used  wings of my own, but instead I had to rely on the awkward way we humans have learned to fly--sitting in the belly of a huge machine filled with other non winged creatures! 

I was happy to leave this flying experience and greet my four Ontario grandchildren. As always, they made me feel so welcome and so loved. One gave up his room for me, another colored pictures with me in a calendar I once gifted her. The grandson no longer living at home took some time off from his holiday with friends to be with me. I got lots of hugs!

To my regret, I had forgotten to bring a diary, but "not to worry, Oma, we have one for you." They had bought me a present--a diary with my emblem on it--the hedgehog--they knew all about the little stuffed hedgehog I used in my German language classes to make self conscious students feel at ease!

Spring comes earlier in Ontario than in Manitoba and I thoroughly enjoyed all the blossoms and the greenery. 

The time to say farewell came all too soon, and once again we entered the belly of the flying machine! I was travelling with my children from Winnipeg and we each had a suitcase that had to conform to a certain size and weight. The Ontario family had gifted their siblings with a giant Ontario salami. They managed to squash it into their suitcase, only to find out at the airport that this made their suitcase too heavy. They asked if they could try putting it into mine. I agreed, of course, doubting it would fit, but they managed to squash it in! To my surprise, and their relief, it did not make my suitcase too heavy! Then we heard the announcement that the plane which we were boarding was going to Dublin instead, and we would be on another plane. For some reason my selected seat had been changed and I ended up in the very back of the plane! My daughter kindly came and sat with me.

When I returned to Winnipeg spring had arrived here as well. I went to check on mother goose and she was still sitting on her nest. Another goose family nearby proudly displayed its offspring, so I think our brave mama goose will soon be able to leave her nest as well! I will go check on her right now! 

Later: She's still sitting there! I have often heard the expression: "silly as a goose." I will change it to "patient as a goose!"

A happy Mothers' Day to all mothers, the silly ones as well as the patient ones! Enjoy your children, you deserve their love!