Canadians have a reputation in other countries for being very polite and cooperative; I think I know why. When immigrants move to the United States they are absorbed into the American culture, which is referred to as a melting pot. But in Canada the various cultures group together in clusters, and maintain their old ways as long as they can. I suspect each of us thinks sub-consciously; “I’m from this small minority group, so I better not rock the boat.”
My forefathers and their families arrived here from the Mennonite colonies in the Ukraine, where they had already kept to themselves, back in 1875. They settled first in southern Manitoba, and then the next generation spread further west into what was only later carved into two new provinces, Saskatchewan and Alberta. I’m very familiar with my culture and clan history, but I know that there are many other cultures in this country, and their people do much the same thing - they stay close together until about the third generation, and then they ease into the general population more. Like magnetic iron particles, they quickly pull together in times of crisis though.
Those who travel abroad say, when they return, that they never fully understood the great value of being a Canadian until they were elsewhere. Since I haven’t traveled abroad, except for a few short trips over the border into the USA, I have to pause and think about this. What exactly has Canada, and my province, Saskatchewan, given to me or allowed me to do? Why should I be glad to be a Canadian?
Going back to my forefathers, they came here for religious freedom, and to get away from war. The advance representatives were able to negotiate a special document from the Canadian government that guaranteed they would not have to take up arms, and they could teach their children their faith in their own religious schools. In the 1920s that seemed to be rescinded, so large numbers of them packed up to start over again in Mexico and Central and South America.
For myself, I have to say that there has been no war in my own lifetime, and although I went to a public school, it was in many ways a Christian school because the leaders in our community were Christian and had the freedom to set good, moral guidelines.
My parents were second generation pioneers, and I’m old enough to remember a lot of those struggling to survive years. It is my own generation that has benefited from all that hard work, and now coasts on good jobs, and homes, and many of them (I’m still excluding myself because I’m addicted to hard work) are taking vacations and exploring the world like regular middle and upper class citizens.
For myself, I’m beginning to see the privilege of being allowed to try creative things like writing books, starting a business, and pioneering in my own areas of interest. A generation or two ago, I might have been stuck milking cows, baking bread, and if brave enough, being allowed to take the horse and buggy to church by myself. I would also be thought incomplete for being single at my age.
Knowing the tendency of my feet to cramp and freeze in our cold winters, I would have been a frustrated home-body, and I might not even have survived to this age because of wrestles with stubborn horses.
However, I thank God that I grew up when and where I did. I’ve often been impatient for the next thing, but by starting school a year later than others I missed being slapped for being a lefty, and I learned to read like a house-afire. I got to finish high school. I was able to buy a car and live by myself in the city, and grow independent. After I paid off my car I drove for four days to Ontario and lived there for 12 years, making friends and learning many things I don’t think would have happened in my home town.
I’m back in Saskatchewan where we seem to specialize in raising creative people as well as being the bread basket of the world with all our vast wheat fields. True for the last decade or two, people were leaving in droves for better jobs elsewhere, and folks would joke, “the last one to go, please turn off the lights!” But in the last year or so things are turning around, and now people are moving back here in large numbers. The economy is picking up, and the construction industry literally booming.
We’re not a backwoods country. Please note that there are more computers per capita in Canada than any other country, and here in Saskatchewan, Sasktel has brought internet connections to the rural fields and forests, and many small towns have high speed already. When you get around on the internet, you discover that a lot of the well-known names of online entrepreneurs are Canadians, operating world-wide from their basement or home office. (I like to click on About Us links, and find out who is behind a site, and where they are located. It has happened many times that I’ve discovered fellow Canadians!)
Our flat prairie horizons may look boring to some. I thought so for years, until I started watching the skies when I drove along the highways. What a fabulous artist’s canvas! Colours were shifting about in amazing patterns continually. In fact, we now have on our license plates this catch phrase to describe Saskatchewan, The Land of the Living Skies. For the most part it is filled with immeasurable quantities of pure oxygen!
Much as I want to look for positives only, I’m not blind to some faults in my beautiful and generous country. I can overlook a lot of small matters, but I sure do wish we had morally stronger politicians who were not afraid to stand up against wrong, and do what is right. Canada, politically, seems to have slipped into a very secular mind-set, and so accepting of others, that it no longer has the courage to call sin SIN. Those of us who have moral concerns are considered oddballs, and the ones to guard against.
Ah, but the God who made this wonderful country is also the ultimate Judge, and He will see that all wrongs are righted, and the wicked will receive their fair punishments.
One more thought comes to me. I am a passing pilgrim in Canada. I have a citizenship in an even more fantastic country to which I will emigrate myself one day!
I had been so glad that my property had trees, but what could I say? Okay, take that tree down. But then this Mike pointed out that all the trees on my property were volunteer trees. They had grown up because nobody had weeded them out when they were suckers. He pointed out how the one behind my shed is waiting to have branches broken off, and has some disease in the leaves.
But I must restrain myself some weeks for the sake of those who would rather I talk about other things. Got some nice comments too, on my flag-waving.