We are in the midst of choices.
COVID-19 restrictions, and the Christmas-season cautions associated with the pandemic. We have become more stable in our understanding and acceptance of the careful steps we must tread to enjoy Christmas. Interfaith is a welcoming ingredient from the heart. To create a new communication that opens doors to community building.
Somehow this stirs the thoughts of a Protestant-Catholic marriage and the offspring produced. Attending a public school under the direction of Protestant philosophy meant learning that much. The schools accepted boys and girls of different faiths.
I experienced that as a young Catholic attending a public school when a schoolmate asked me about my faith. My reply brought forward a response of “why are you attending this school?”
My father and family were among the early members of a new congregation nearby. Upon arriving from the U.K. and settling into Cornwall, their new church was chosen.
I was invited by my classmate to visit and meet his Cub pack as well as their Cub leader. A tremendous experience of discovery, friendship building, without of course usurping a faith.
The yellow stripes that appeared on my arm along with the single star on my Cub cap were indications of a rewarding mutual acceptance. We understood interfaith.
The sensitivity of understanding emerging from interfaith should be considered from a childhood perspective in this sometimes very mean world.
Since the spring, my wife and I have driven our two daughters, plus a Cornwall girl to soccer in Ottawa three to four times per week. Soccer was cancelled in this area.
On Nov. 20, at the last outdoor session, there were three teams of about 20 players per team practising crossways on the Quinn’s turf field in Nepean. With about 10 minutes left in their practices, another three teams appeared and warmed up and jogged around the field edges. The cameras and witnesses will record that, with parents, about 185 to 190 people, none with masks, were at that field at one time.
This was every week, several times per week, at a variety of fields in and around Ottawa.
I, nor others, were not concerned, since one of the top Ottawa doctors, whose daughter plays with my daughter, says this virus is gone in the outdoor environment instantly.
Oh yes, they are now playing indoors three to four times per week, but limited to 50 people in the indoor domes.
Of the 3,000 children in that soccer league, not one has gotten COVID-19, and if they did there is virtually no danger. My daughters teach maskless to maskless school children in Kent, England, and Toowoomba, Australia.
Could someone please explain the difference in medical danger and illegality, from Ottawa on Nov. 20 with 190 people, with the 150 people congregated beside the health unit in Cornwall on Nov. 21, in an area bigger than a soccer field?
Please make my gran and grandad smile again.
They used to have fun guessing the prime minister’s hair colour each day, and whether his curl would point left or right or straight up.
They also used to like counting the number of times he said uuh, and the number of words he spouted without saying anything. Gran thinks the prime minister went to the University of Gibberish, but grandad just thinks he doesn’t know how to Google facts.
They’ve both stopped laughing at the prime minister’s beard. Gran thinks he grows it to make him look statesmanlike, but grandad is sure he is following his summer routine of having open-necked shirts and rolled-up sleeves to make himself appear to be a member of the working class.
Please Santa, can you make them smile again, but not the way the prime minister’s working lady friend, Miss Noddy, does. I mean real smiles, please.
Can I ask you for a personal present please?
Gran and Grandpa keep telling us how they used to wear masks when they were children like us. They were called gas masks. Please, can you give us the gift of smelling nice? I don’t want to have to wear a mask when I fart.
Shhh, don’t tell mum I used that word.
Wish Rudolph a Merry Christmas, and you don’t need to bring us any other presents. We have enough; give them to other children who need them.