All posts by Art Martens

Politics, Societal Issues

The Grannies Freedom Party

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Linda’s Mom, the Grannie’s Freedom Party wants to recruit her.

With Elections Canada making preparations for a possible spring vote, I decided to call Susanna Mitchell, leader of the newly minted Grannies Freedom Party. In a two hour telephone conversation from her home in Langley, she talked about a concept I consider well outside the proverbial box.

“We’re in the midst of a global health crises and politicians have thrown enough money at it to fill a large landfill,” she said. “They’re giving away so called free money. It’s a ploy to charm us. We’re convinced Canada needs a strong dose of innovative and practical thinking. It’s our belief that grandmothers have the life experience to provide that.”

Susanna, who I have only met once, volunteered she is 81. Then, with an understandable hint of pride said she had raised 14 offspring during harsh economic times in rural Saskatchewan. “We lived in a 4 bedroom, unpainted house,” she said. “My husband worked in a coal mine and was away a lot. I had a large garden, a cow for milk, chickens for eggs and meat, and every fall we butchered a hog. Our oldest son helped me build an outdoor summer kitchen to prepare meals on hot days.”

Susanna stands at no more than 5 feet and I was beginning to realize that this little lady is pragmatic, fair minded, feisty and not easily flustered. She now wanted to shift gears and it became evident that although she has only a high school diploma, reading has given her a wide ranging grasp of politics, especially of governance. “Each member of my shadow cabinet is endowed with experience and expertise in various realms like finance, agriculture, health and much more,” she said. “Most have raised children. That can be a more practical preparation for governing than a fancy law degree. Also, some have been teachers or served on school boards, several have operated small businesses. One was CEO of a community organization. Another operated a successful poultry farm. Grannies 55 and older are welcome in our Party.”

“Politics in Canada, as elsewhere,” Susanna contended, “has been tarnished by lust for power, prestige and money. The economist and author, Anthony Downs, said parties don’t try to get elected to implement policies. They adopt policies to try to get elected.”

She followed this by reminding me of the advice given by Quintus to Cicero when he was campaigning for the position of Roman Consul. “Make the promises now,” Quintus urged his brother in law, “then worry about fulfilling them later. You will have to promise to help people, even if you know you can’t.”

“This isn’t appropriate advice for our members,” Susanna said. “We’re convinced voters value integrity. We don’t make promises we know we can’t fulfill.” She refuses to enlist pollsters, advertising specialists, sociologists, statisticians, strategists and back room boys.

Susanna isn’t unrealistic in her expectations of what her party can achieve. “We may not win any seats,” she acknowledged, “but if we do I will remind members the election is over and we won’t function like other parties. They tend to remain in election mode for much of their term in office. Elected or unelected, our purpose will be to get things done, not to campaign incessantly.”

Concerned by Canada’s burgeoning mountain of debt, Susanna will strive to lower expectations, as she did when men came to her door in Saskatchewan looking for a handout. “Here’s an axe,” she said to them. “Chop fire wood in the back yard and I’ll throw a chicken in a pot and prepare a meal for when you’re done.” She will attempt to stop the presses that have been printing free money. She knows borrowed money will one day have to be paid back by our children, grandchildren and beyond.

Susanna and members of the Grannies Freedom Party are disturbed by the decadent ways of governments. They deplore the lavish banquets, junkets to exotic islands, generous pensions, and other perks for which ordinary citizens are not eligible. Their primary goal is to do more than talk about cleaning up our environment, balancing the budget, providing free dental care and pharmacare, and much more. The established parties aren’t concerned about the Grannies Freedom Party at this time, but the Grannies’ message may resonate with voters. In that case, there will likely be some surprised expressions in Parliament after the next election, whenever that takes place.

Hedley Times, People

A Former “Bad Boy” Tells His Story

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Paul Richardson, when he was working in Cuba

In the years I worked for the One Way Adventure Foundation, a variety of youths were sent to our programs by judges, probation officers and social workers. Invariably they came with thorny issues that brought them pain but which they resisted dealing with. For mere mortals, change is difficult and I have sometimes wondered when they moved on whether we had helped them gain the motivation, understanding and skills required to continue rebuilding their lives.

Last week, after vanishing for forty-five years, one such youth surprised me with the following comment on my blogsite.

“I was one of those ‘bad boys’ sent to the OWAF back in 1976 by the courts. What an adventure!!

My name is Paul Richardson and I’m forever grateful to Len & Jean. Ron Gibson if I remember right was a counselor with the foundation. Ron would always steer us straight and kept a tight rein on us. I attended the Foundation School in Surrey, and we would travel to Hedley lots. Stayed in the Colonial House and the chef in the kitchen was a fantastic cook, (former biker if memory serves me right).

They had a cabin up the mountain from Hedley that we stayed in for a few nights in the winter. Going out to the well, break the ice in it to get water and the snow was deep. When we came back to the Colonial House, we came down the old tram line snow shoeing and sliding on our butts( I have a scar from an old spike sticking out of the ground ). Never felt it, frozen butt. It wasn’t until the chef noticed and fixed me up right away.

I was 16 when I was sent there and here I am soon to be 61, and the memories of that time of my life are flooding back to me. They are what saved me back then, the counselors of this great foundation. Have to stop writing for tears are forming in my eyes.


It took me another 10 years to get it. At 26 I sobered up and have been in AA for 34 years now, married and still living and dreaming. Thank-you Ron, Len and Jean and the rest of the One Way Adventure Foundation.”

Although I did not work with Paul directly, I recalled he had been gifted with a robust physique and a willingness to engage in conversation. In a 2 hour phone call from his home in Calgary last week, he talked about his life. “My father was an alcoholic,” he said. “He joined AA and my mother attended Al-Anon. I don’t remember my father ever giving me any positive affirmations in my early years, or saying he loved me.”

Paul began drinking some time after age 8. “The alcohol interfered with my memory. I don’t remember much of my childhood. I became a blackout drinker. I could be happy-go-lucky, then, in an instant become angry without reason”. As we talked, some memories came back to Paul. “A friend and I were bored and did a break and entry, looking for alcohol. This is what got me sent to the One Way Adventure Foundation at their Surrey location. I was placed in the home of a local family and this was a good experience.

In his younger years my group leader, Ron Gibson, had been on the wrong side of the law himself. He had been where we were, and had learned to stay away from what would drag him back down. Ron and other leaders planted good seed in us.”

After the Foundation Paul floundered for another 10 years, then went to detox, sobered up and joined AA. More good seed was planted here. “I still love the taste of alcohol,” he said. “I just don’t touch it anymore.

Paul Richardson, in front of a jobsite in Galveston, Texas

In 1986 I took a heavy equipment operators course and learned to run dozers, scrapers, graders, packers and other equipment. I enjoyed it and found I had a knack for it. Since then I’ve also taken courses in excavators and boom trucks. I’ve worked across Canada and in the U.S.”

In 2001 Paul married Rose and they have a comfortable home in Calgary. Looking back over his life now, he stills gives credit to the good seed planted by the One Way Adventure Foundation and AA. It helped that he was receptive to the constructive counsel he received.

Hedley Times, People

Happy Valentines Jim & Pat!

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Pat & Jim Melville, still in love! This photo was taken for Valentines Day, 2015. 

This is a reprint of the 2015 article.

Advertising moguls wouldn’t likely select Jim and Pat Melville of Hedley as their Valentines Day poster couple. After the bumps and bruises that come with almost 45 years of marriage and raising 2 children, the Melvilles don’t have the sleek, unrealistic fashion magazine figures. They don’t exude the “over the top” glamour advertisers thrive on. For me their life partnership provides convincing evidence that stability and faithfulness in a relationship is more rewarding than the Larry King model of multiple failed marriages. I was interested in meeting with them because they are so thoroughly untouched by the hype and values of the advertising gurus.

They grew up in a time when money was scarce. Recalling the day in 1960 when he went to a car lot, Jim said, “I told the salesman I liked the1949 Pontiac they had, but I could pay only three hundred dollars. He said he’d talk to the manager. A few minutes later he came back. The manager had approved my offer.” The first time he went to put in gas, he couldn’t find the gas cap. After hunting for some time, he found it behind one of the tail lights.

For Jim, meeting Pat must have been “love at first sight.” He still remembers the day and the precise time. “I was working at what is now the Weyerhauser Mill in Princeton,” he said. “Some friends came to give me and a co-worker a ride home. They brought Pat along. It was 6 pm on October 24th, 1969.” For him the timing was fortuitous. His father had been deceased for 13 years, and he had lost his mother 3 weeks ago. Pat was a ray of sunshine. The following weekend he took her to a movie in Oroville.

They had similar interests and values, and their relationship flourished rapidly. It may surprise younger readers that Jim asked Pat’s parents for “her hand in marriage.” At that time there was greater respect for societal values and institutions, including marriage. Her father liked him and jokingly said, “if you want her, take her.”

“We asked Reverend Derek Salter to marry us,” Jim said. “He took marriage pretty seriously. We had to go to his home and tell him about ourselves and why we wanted to get married. I don’t remember what we told him.”

Apparently the Reverend was satisfied with their responses. He performed the ceremony in Hedley’s United Church (now Hedley Grace Church) on March 28, 1970.

Pat and Jim share a lengthy history in Hedley. Her family arrived in 1951 and her father operated the tram that moved ore, supplies and people between the Nickel Plate mine, high on the mountain, and the town. “I attended school here,“ she said. “So did our children and grandchildren.”

Jim arrived somewhat later than Pat. He is one quarter native and related to the well known Allison family. “My mom was half aboriginal,” he said. “My dad was Irish.”
Initially they rented. When they applied to rent a house owned by the Credit Union, the manager said, “Why rent? You should buy it. There is a grant available.” They accepted his advice and it is their home to this day.

“There were large families living in small houses then,” Pat said. “People didn’t have much money to do things. We attended community events. There were dances at the Moose Hall and a big Robbie Burns celebration each year. Also Boxing Day and New Years dances. Groups of ladies met for coffee in their homes. Expectations weren’t as high as now.”

It has taken love, a sense of humour and commitment to get to where they are now. “If we didn’t agree about something,” Pat said, “we talked about it. We always worked through the problems.”

When our coffee cups were empty and they were ready to leave, it occurred to me that throughout our conversation, their voices had been gentle and respectful toward each other. At a time when 30 day Hollywood unions no longer surprise us, the Melville’s life long partnership is inspiring and well worth observing. Happy Valentines Jim and Pat!

Unfortunately, Jim passed away January 24, 2021. He was a good friend to many, and a valued member of the Hedley community.

Politics

The Lesson Of Sisyphus

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Sisyphus had to repeatedly roll a huge boulder up a mountain, only to have it tumble down as it neared the pinnacle. (pinterest image)

It’s evident Donald Trump never learned the lesson of Sisyphus, mythological Greek king of Ephyra. The gods placed a curse on the king for his much lying and deceitfulness. As punishment they required him to repeatedly roll a huge boulder up a mountain, only to have it always tumble back down just before it attained the pinnacle. This was to be his fate for all eternity.

Although it’s based on myth, I feel the account is worth taking note of in our time because powerful individuals around the globe are resorting to fabrications to create a pervasive toxic culture. We see this in Russia, Brazil, Venezuela, several African states and elsewhere. While in the White House, Trump wove a web of lies that ensnared many leaders in the Republican Party, as well as numerous rank and file party members.

I was especially disappointed when I heard former New York mayor Rudy Giuliani promoting Trump’s deceptive assertions. Giuliani had won the respect and admiration of Americans with his calm leadership when the twin towers were destroyed by terrorists. His book, Leadership, impressed me greatly. Now he is facing a $1.3 billion lawsuit filed by Dominion Voting Machines for claiming the company had deliberately rigged its machines to ensure Joe Biden would win. It is well known that in spite of recounts and denials by election officials and judges, millions of American citizens still choose to have their minds entangled in the former president’s web of deceit.

I recently heard a Syrian writer interviewed on CBC speaking about the disheartening experiences of people in his country. He said “the point of writing is not to change the world. It is to keep truth alive.” Fortunately, there have always been leaders who struggled for truth and justice. In the 1980’s Lech Walesa, an electrician in the shipyards of Gdansk, Poland and leader of the Solidarity movement, made decisions that were in the interest of his people, not himself.

The Polish Communist Party arrested and threw Walesa in prison several times. They attempted to tarnish his image of absolute integrity by offering him a nice house and a good job if he gave up his struggle against the government’s heavy handed rule. In the face of overtures, prison sentences and death threats, Walesa and his family chose to continue living in cramped quarters under constant surveillance, knowing danger lurked incessantly in the shadows. To retain power, the communists killed even priests who supported the Solidarity movement.

From the beginning of time, there has been a continuous tug of war between the forces of deception and the forces of truth. Ambitious, ruthless individuals are eager to undermine democracy wherever it exists, even in America, until recent years considered by many to be its greatest defender.

George Orwell said “a society becomes totalitarian when its ruling class has lost its function but succeeds in clinging to power by force or fraud.” Donald Trump confidently assured his followers he would be the first U.S. president to serve more than two terms. It was by fraud that he came eerily close to winning the 2020 election. Having observed his various devious ploys to overturn the election results, it seems quite safe to assume he planned to consolidate power and rule indefinitely. His laudatory comments about dictators elsewhere suggest he envied them and was keen to emulate them.

It’s easy to be lulled into thinking the Canadian system of government is too robust and entrenched to be rocked. In “The Cellist of Sarajevo”, Dragon, one of the characters offers a comment we probably should take note of. He says, ”Civilization needs to be built, recreated constantly. It vanishes far more rapidly than we ever would have thought.”

A British researcher (whose name I’ve lost) said, “we need to know what we believe, and live by those principles. Otherwise outside forces will manipulate us.” With some in the media asking if there will be a federal election in spring, this is a good time to give consideration to the truths and values that undergird our way of life. It’s a good time to listen carefully to the words of those who want to govern, and to observe what they do.

Fortunately enough of our neighbors to the south became aware their president, like Sisyphus, was seducing them with an insidious web of deceit. We need to be alert so it doesn’t happen in Canada.

Issues, Politics

We Live In Strange Times

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A thorough, and at times disturbing, discourse concerning advances in technology.

It’s probably prudent to be skeptical in response to the accelerating flurry of discordant online views, opinions and rantings concerning the covid-19 pandemic, and our government’s actions. Even so, when I first read the email passed on to me by my friend, I was troubled. Was this real, or just another conspiracy theory with some truth thrown in to encourage belief? I was reluctant to delete it, in case what appeared to be preposterous turned out to contain a dose of reality. The main message of the email is that at the highest levels of the Canadian government, there are plans to bring in disruptive changes that would make a lot of citizens deeply uncomfortable. Equally disturbing is the email’s assertion that influential figures from a variety of sectors worldwide are collaborating with governments in an international effort to unhinge our way of life.

It was after reading The Fourth Industrial Revolution by Klaus Schwab, that I decided to delve a little deeper. Schwab is founder and Executive Chairman of the World Economic Forum, whose membership includes many of the globe’s largest corporations and leaders with immense clout in various realms. There are indications that even before there was a pandemic, members of the Forum were already making plans to combat it. As is well known, some conspiracy theorists, and also others, believe the virus was developed in a lab and may have been accidentally or deliberately allowed to escape.

The afore mentioned email (dated Oct. 10, 2020) came from a government employee in Ottawa. It was purported to have been written by an MP sitting on a government committee. The writer does not self-identify, but outlines what supposedly is the government’s plan to deal with resistance to the vaccine, lockdown plans and other measures. It begins with “I’m not happy doing this, but as a Canadian and as a parent I want a better future for our children. 30 percent of a committee on which I sit are not pleased with the direction government policy will take Canada, but our opinions have been ignored.”

According to the email, the road map laid out by the PMO contains the following. Phase in secondary lockdown restrictions on a rolling basis, rush the acquisition or construction of isolation facilities across Canada, projected covid-19 mutation and/or co-infection with secondary virus (covid-21). Daily new cases to exceed medical care facilities capacity, resulting in many more deaths. Enhanced lock down restrictions (Third Lock Down) implemented. Full travel restrictions, (including inter-province and inter-city). Projected supply chain breakdowns, inventory shortages, large economic instability. The email provides a timetable for how this is expected to unfold.

The email states further that “in order to offset an economic collapse on an international scale, the government will offer to eliminate all personal debts (mortgages, loans, credit cards, etc.), with all funding provided by the IMF, under what will become known as the World Debt Reset Program. In exchange for this total debt forgiveness, the individual must forfeit ownership of any property and assets forever. Such individuals would also agree to accept the covid-19 vaccine. Any individual refusing to cooperate would be relocated to an isolation facility. The Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) has made it clear nothing will stop their planned outcome.”

At this time I’m not yet convinced the email is authentic, even though some of what it alludes to is already happening. I do believe however, we are on the cusp of unprecedented global change. Pronouncements by some world leaders indicate they view the pandemic as an opportunity to bring about and shape the change. A statement on the World Economic Forum website supports this view. It says, “There is an urgent need for global stakeholders to cooperate in simultaneously managing the direct consequences of the COVID-19 crisis. To improve the state of the world, the World Economic Forum is starting the Great Reset initiative.”

Will this Great Reset, (whatever it is) impact citizens of the Similkameen Valley? Accelerating technological change almost certainly ensures it will. Whether the change will be beneficial or detrimental remains to be seen. In the meantime, I plan to focus on what is good in my life. I will also remain skeptical. We certainly do live in strange times.

Hedley Times, People

Noree Finds Purpose At Camp Colonial

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Noree on the patio of their Hedley home.

When Noree Lilly first arrived in Hedley at age 19, she didn’t expect these few days to dramatically alter the direction of her life. Born in New Mexico and raised in California, she had left a job in a California hospital seeking adventure and purpose. “I enrolled as a student at Trinity Western University,” she said. “One of the courses was in outdoor recreation and the instructors brought us to Camp Colonial in Hedley for the wilderness skills component.”

She was enchanted by the mountains, the Similkameen River, and the rustic former gold mining community. Some aspects of the training were intimidating though, testing her courage and resolve.“The rappelling course really challenged me,” she recalled. “I was terrified the first time I was instructed to step off the edge of a high rock cliff and rappel down. Although the two instructors were experienced and I was securely tied in, I knew if anything went wrong it would be a long plunge to the bottom. When we moved to the higher, more difficult Grosbeak site, at one point because of the inward curving of the rock wall, my feet couldn’t find rock surface to steady myself.” The course also included rock climbing, chimneying, orienteering and stretcher lowering. “I didn’t at that time have the upper body strength required for rock climbing,” she said. “I struggled with it.”

In the evening Noree and the other course participants returned to the Camp Colonial lodge and here she met Len Roberts, founder of the One Way Adventure Foundation. The organization, still in its infancy, had a contract with the provincial government to operate programs for youth in Surrey and at Camp Colonial. It lacked extensive resources, but Len saw possibilities where others did not. He apparently recognized the potential in Noree and invited her to a one on one visit with him.

The young organization’s budget was lean and the needs were numerous. Len could not offer Noree a financial incentive to come on staff. What he could offer was an opportunity to provide constructive guidance to youths who almost invariably came from dysfunctional homes, substance abuse, crime and life on the streets. “In the church our family attended in California I taught a class for teens, some almost my age,” Noree said. “I found it hard and told myself I will never work with teens again.”

Len did not have charisma as we commonly think of it. His fervent belief in the importance of the work was compelling though, and in his presentation of the vision Noree heard something she found appealing. “His words and quiet passion ignited something deep inside me, and I decided to come on board.”

Initially she was promised no pay for her work, other than room and meals. “Len did at times slip me twenty five dollars for basic essentials,” she said. There were other perks. One that she valued highly was the more advanced wilderness skills training provided by Jeff Evans of Keremeos Outward Bound. Noree benefited from Jeff’s expert training and in time was elevated to the rank of instructor in rappelling and orienteering.

Watching Noree develop as a leader, Len initiated a one year training school for young adults who yearned for adventure, purpose, and experience in working with people. The training included rappelling, rock climbing, a ten day Bowron Lakes canoeing and portaging expedition. There was also a five day back packing expedition in Cathedral park, down hill and cross country skiing, horse back riding, plus yard work, cleaning and cooking. They were mentored in wilderness skills and the youth work by several seasoned, established staff.

Noree loved the outdoors and the activities gave her a common ground with the youths. “I got close to some of the girls,” she said. “After completing their program, years later they at times came around to visit and in some cases to show off their children.” At the end of one year Noree became the first graduate of this program. It matured and prepared her to become a full fledged group leader. She met Derek, a co-worker, and in time they were married. They now have three adult children and two grandchildren. After the Foundation closed its doors Noree worked for the Hedley Improvement District and then Canada Post. The young woman who came to Camp Colonial many years ago found adventure, purpose, a family, lasting friendships and much more.

My Story

A Glance Back At 8 Years

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The Winter I Met Colin Ford

It was a cold wintery night when I met Colin Ford in front of his home in Hedley eight years ago. In the midst of steadily falling snow, this brief encounter would radically impact my life. I learned he was intimately familiar with computers and mentioned that I wanted to have a blogsite but didn’t know how to set it up. “I’ll come to your place tomorrow and do that,” he said. A few days later I was a citizen journalist, although Colin cautioned me with the words, “I just don’t know if anyone will see it.” Now, at the beginning of 2021, I decided to glance back over my shoulder at the challenges and joys that have come with writing for this space.

From the beginning I felt I had a responsibility to give something of value to readers. Having worked with adult prisoners and parolees, and also young offenders, I had some understanding that the lens through which we view our world to a great extent determines how we will respond to the circumstances that beset us. Believing this to be true, I began requesting interviews with individuals I felt had done something significant and interesting. Initially I hoped that of ten individuals, at least one would agree to talk. I was amazed to discover that people were extraordinarily gracious with their time and stories. Of some 300 requests over almost 8 years, I have been turned down no more than 12 times.

At the outset I occasionally sent my blog writings to the Similkameen Spotlight and Keremeos Review. Then Andrea DeMeer took over the helm at the Spotlight and I quickly learned she would be a take charge, sometimes unorthodox editor and publisher. Without consulting me, she immediately turned my next submission into a column. When I met her in what is now Save-on-Foods a few days later, she unabashedly said, “I don’t have your column for next week yet.”

I met John Horgan in the Shades on Main Restaurant in Penticton.

I decided when requesting an interview with a politician, I needed to begin with a thought that intrigued them. At the start of John Horgan’s first election campaign as leader of the NDP, I challenged myself by calling his media agent, Sheena McConnell. I explained I was with Black Press and said, “A lot of people know Mr. Horgan as a politician, but most of us don’t know him as a person. I’d like to write about who he is away from microphones and politics.” She liked the idea and two months later I met John Horgan, Sheena and a photographer for 35 minutes in the Shades on Main Restaurant in Penticton. The next morning he called me from the airport to finish a fascinating conversation. I found him to be decent, warm and candid, a politician who might be trusted by voters.

When I heard about Nora Allison, the plucky inspirational indigenous first wife of John Fall Allison, I was immediately intrigued. According to Nancy Allison, a great granddaughter, Nora ran a pack train of approximately 40 horses from Hope to Greenwood, carrying groceries, mining supplies, and other necessities. I wrote about her and also several of her numerous descendants, including Carrie Allison, a highly respected elder still living not far from Hedley.

Eric Goodfellow, Bill Robinson & Rev. John Goodfellow

I very much enjoyed a conversation with Eric Goodfellow of Princeton. At age seven, he and a number of other boys walked with his father, Reverend John Goodfellow, from Princeton to Hope. “At night we cut boughs and placed our sleeping bags on them,” he said. “We built a large fire to keep away animals.” They stopped in at Camp Defiance for a visit with the enigmatic Bill Robinson, whose cabin along the Sumallo River has long been a source of curiosity.

Enthusiastic youth also participated in the 2016 Pow Wow.

Linda and I attended the Ashnola Pow Wow and interviewed Lauren Terbasket, a lead organizer. We also participated in a health and wellness event put on by the Upper Band. For a change of pace, I wrote about Ben Murbach, who entertained a neighbour’s chickens by playing his harmonica. They seemed to enjoy the music, but I don’t know if it inspired them to lay more eggs.

Ben Murbach, entertaining the neighbour’s chickens.

As a writer, I consider it a privilege to have an audience. I feel fortunate and honoured that so many quality individuals have trusted me with their stories. I hope at times the accounts have prompted readers to ponder, reflect, consider, and maybe even look at life through a more optimistic lens.

Christmas

Christmas Story As Recorded 2,000 Years Ago

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Children’s Christmas Pageant (Pinterest, Sam Farrar Williams)

When my sisters and I were youngsters, our family attended a German language Mennonite church. Although I had only a rudimentary grasp of the language, at Christmas I did get caught up in the excitement of the festivities, pageantry and food. On Christmas Eve the church was filled to capacity and children enacted the events leading to the birth of Jesus, the Messiah Jews had long waited for. For a short time I was transported back to an earlier, simpler time. There was magic in the air.

Now, when I go into a mall and hear renditions of Jingle Bells, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus and other Christmas tunes, I’m aware of a vast chasm between my early experience of Christmas and the present commercial version. The anxious scrambling to find appropriate gifts suggests to me I’ve entered an alien culture which has no mystery, no magic, and no soul.

Hoping to regain a sense of the earlier mystique I experienced many years ago, last week I reviewed the events of Christmas as I had seen them depicted on stage when I was a kid. To do this, I needed to let go of the present and enter a world with values and practises quite foreign to me. I also needed to accept the possibility of the miraculous.

At that time Caesar Augustus ruled over the far flung Roman Empire and Herod the Great was king of Palestine (Judea). The empire was a cauldron of suspicion, intrigue and treachery. Seeking protection from evil, rulers at various levels built temples and shrines to a plethora of gods. To enhance their image and standing with the people, they sought to be identified with these gods. Herod had a well deserved reputation for savagery, having ordered the slaying of rivals and also members of his own family.

The story of Christmas began when the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and announced that the Holy Spirit would “overshadow” her and cause her to become pregnant. Although she was a virgin and had not slept with Joseph, to whom she was betrothed but not yet officially married, she would bear a son who would bring hope to the people. She was to name him Jesus. Not long after, Caesar Augustus issued a decree compelling all citizens to return to their place of birth to be registered for taxation and military service. Mary was already “heavy with child” when she, riding a donkey, and Joseph embarked on the approximately three day journey to Bethlehem, a small town in the hill country of Judea.

Arriving in Bethlehem, they found the town clogged with people, horses, donkeys and camels. Joseph searched for accommodation for himself and the weary, pregnant Mary. At each door he was told, “the inn is full. We have no room for you.” He was relieved when a compassionate innkeeper looked at Mary and said, “We have no space for you, but if you like, you can stay in the stable behind the inn.” It was in this stable, amidst hay, animals and farm odours, that Mary gave birth to the Jewish Messiah. She wrapped him in cloths and laid him in a manger.

It was in the stable that Mary gave birth to the Jewish Messiah.

That night in the surrounding hill country, shepherds were tending their sheep when angels appeared in the sky singing and announcing to them that Jesus had been born in Bethlehem. Although startled and greatly astonished, they didn’t question what they were seeing. Like Jews over the centuries, they had been eagerly anticipating this event. They left the sheep and hurried into Bethlehem where they found Mary, Joseph and the newly born child in a stable.

The shepherds gazed in astonishment at the angelic choir.

At about this time three men of noble birth, probably astrologers, were observing the sky in another country. Suddenly they became aware of a star they had not seen previously. The star appeared to be moving and being curious about wonders in the sky, they made preparations to follow it. Some time later, after receiving directions at King Herod’s palace, they arrived in Bethlehem and presented the child with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Three wise men following the star.

This is the story, pretty much based on the account of Matthew, a former tax collector and Luke, a physician of Greek origin. I realize it seems totally implausible, but when I consider the thorny issues facing humankind at this time, I feel ready for a more optimistic message, even the supernatural.

Inspiration

When Difficult Days Come

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The decrepit truck which Jim rescued from a wrecking yard during his difficult days.

About 25 years ago a chiropractor performed an “old school” maneuver on me for which he should have done jail time. It severely disturbed my sciatic nerve and for 6 weeks the pain in my back was so intense I couldn’t walk except by using powerful, suicide inducing pain medications. My mind sometimes returns to those difficult days when I think of my friend Jim.

Until about 6 months ago, Jim worked in the woods. An elite faller with a muscular frame, he had the strength to handle a large chain saw in steep terrain. I always enjoyed the visits when he came into our community. With alert blue eyes, long blond hair and a quick optimistic smile, he attracted people wherever he showed up. He bought a new Ford pickup every two years and kept it in immaculate condition. I felt deeply disappointed when I learned he had begun associating with a group of young individuals who slept during the day and partied at night.

As I was walking along Daly Avenue in Hedley one day, Jim pulled over in a battered red Toyota pickup he must have rescued from an auto wrecker. His morose expression told me something had changed. “I was let go by my employer. The finance company repossessed my pickup,” he said, turning off the ignition. “My wife got fed up with me hanging around the house, then leaving her to put the boys to bed while I went and partied. She told me to move on and not bother coming back. I really miss my boys.” He paused for a moment, wiped a tear from his cheek, then said, “I need to change my life.”

In subsequent encounters the smile was gone, replaced by an expression of deep despair. Several times he again said, “I know I need to change my life.” Initially, I thought he would make the effort to turn his life in a better direction. The pain was searing his soul. I said more than once, “Jim, your friends are eroding your understanding of who you are. You need to break from your associations.” He agreed, but seemed unable to unfetter himself from the devious forces accelerating his slide into futility.

Reflecting back now on my own experience, I realize that like Jim, I had little hope my circumstances would change. I didn’t know how long I could live with the pain. I was eating mostly green grapes and flavoured yogurt and shedding weight, Linda feared my body was going into shock. Many nights, after she went to bed, I sat on the floor of our livingroom, seeking a way out of this frightening cauldron of physical, mental and emotional misery. The doctor who prescribed the pharmaceuticals had not troubled to warn me they might bring on thoughts of suicide. Although weak with pain, I considered dragging my body to Clearbrook Rd. and throwing myself in front of a big truck. The thought holding me back was that it would not be fair to Linda.

After about 6 weeks of crawling on the floor on hands and knees, I began getting help from a different chiropractor and a personal trainer. Now, to retain my ability to walk, I still do stretches and exercises to strengthen my body core. Since then, I’ve come to realize most of us will at some time need to grapple with a potentially life shattering circumstance. Several of my friends have lost their spouse, a few have been cut down in their prime by cancer or a debilitating illness. Others have been overtaken by financial loss. I’ve wondered what enables some to battle fiercely and again thrive, while others, like Jim, remain bogged down in mental and emotional quicksand, unable to extricate themselves.

From age 89 to 95 my Dad had to cope with difficult days while living in a longterm care facility.

I’ve concluded that one factor is the thoughts we have entertained over the years. My Dad was always generous with time and money. He sought to uplift people whenever possible. His thoughts made him optimistic, even in difficult times. At age 89 he fell and broke a hip. For the next five years he was in a long term care facility, unable to walk, get in or out of bed, or even turn over in bed. I asked him if he was hanging on to life for his family. I assured him if he wanted to let go, we’d miss him but we would be o.k. He replied, “No, I still like to live.”