Faraway lessons hit close to home

Of my six great grandparents I know of, five were born in Canada before 1867 and the sixth was born in Scotland but moved to Canada when he was five years old in 1845, so I have deep roots in Canada that sprouted well before Confederation.

My earliest memory of being Canadian is when I was seven. It was 1954 and we were in Phoenix, Arizona, where we lived for three years. The teacher was showing us the flags of the world and I remember my chest bursting with pride as I pointed to the Canadian Red Ensign and claimed it as my flag. I was the only Canadian in the class.

We returned to Canada when I was nine and moved to Montreal. A few years later it was announced that Montreal would be hosting Expo 67. I turned 20 the year of Expo and visited the fair many times with my $20 youth passport.

Once again I felt that warm feeling in my chest as I watched the film showcasing the highlights of our beautiful country on the 360-degree screen in the Canadian Pavilion. It was then I made a promise to myself I would see the rest of Canada, which I have kept by either visiting or living in all 10 provinces.

After Expo, I pretty much took living in Canada for granted until 1995, when my husband’s job took us to Brazil. Over the next 15 years, we spent nine years in Brazil and Chile, and it was there that I realized how very fortunate we are to be living in Canada.

The current Syrian refugee situation, the conditions in many parts of the Middle East and the recent happenings in our neighbour to the south have all reinforced this belief.

I am even more grateful that I will be spending the rest of my life in the best city of the best country in the world, where our biggest problems are figuring out how to keep both cyclists and motorists happy and how to treat our sewage.

When I hear people grumble, I think of the words of Jack Knox when he spoke of “whining about the whitecaps in Victoria’s sea of prosperity.”

We are truly blessed.