A Canada Day Like None Other

A Canada Day Like None Other; A Liturgy Like None Other

Canada Day, July 1, 2021, was like none other I had experienced. Canada Day, July 1, 2021, I experienced liturgy like none other, but one for which I have dreamed, hoped, and prayed.

Sister Linda and Sister Diane had come to Hay River from Yellowknife to visit for a few days. On July 1st, Canada Day, we joined the community of Katlodeeche First Nation Reserve to honour and remember the children who did not return home from Residential School. Approximately 220 people, many wearing orange, had gathered for the memorial. Although the last days of June had been extremely hot, mixed with rain and thunderstorms, that morning the weather cleared, the sun came out, (as well as the bugs!).

The memorial was to begin at 13:23 hours, signifying the number of graves (at the point of planning) that had been discovered, 1,323. Those planning to attend were invited to gather at 13:00 hours in order that the memorial could begin on time.

As we arrived, the table had been set - a small fire with a few logs. The drummers were present, warming their drums over the fire, ready to sing a prayer song.

Chief April Martel welcomed everyone; community members, many people from the town of Hay River including the mayor and counsellors, RCMP, Rangers, men, women and children, Dene, Metis and Inuit, as well as non-indigenous. All had come to stand in solidarity.

Roy Fabian, former chief and elder, began to speak. Roy began explaining the word “Dene”. He explained that it consisted of two words, De and Ne. De means the water, the rivers and Ne of the land, the plants, animals, and people. All is gift from the Creator.

We had gathered on the site of the former residential school. Roy shared with us some history of the residential days and he spoke the truth, in the fact that not all was good.  

“A Canada Day like none other ...but one for which I have dreamed, hoped and prayed.”

Following Roy’s words, the feeding of the fire began. Roy explained that traditionally the hunter would take the fat/muscle from behind the eye of the animal and offer it in thanksgiving for its life and thanksgiving to the Creator. Today, tobacco is used. Everyone present, who wished, was invited to make an offering.

Taking some tobacco in his hands, Pat Martel, a former chief and elder, began the fire feeding ceremony with a prayer in his Dene language. He then sprinkled the tobacco in the fire. This was followed by Chief April Martel, elder Roy Fabian and the drummers. The drummers then began to sing the prayer song while those present came forward to make their offering.

It was a vey sacred moment. As individuals and families came to the fire, taking some tobacco in their fingers, each one took a few moments to reflect and remember. Among the crowd gathered, there was an atmosphere of profound quietness as we stood in solidarity. The drummers continued to drum and sing throughout the fire-feeding ceremony.

Up to this point, the memorial was in honour of the children who did not come home, within an atmosphere of quietness and grief. And then the mood changed. The drumming took on an air of celebration as everyone joined in a tea dance. Roy explained that the dance was in honour of the children now, in the present.

 As the drummers led the dance with a celebratory drum beat and joyful song, a large circle formed around the monument on the Residential School site as we danced to the beat of the drum.

As Sister Linda had just moved to Yellowknife in September, we ended our day going to Alexandra Falls. As we walked through the trees to get to the lookout, I was aware that we had come full circle from Roy’s words explaining the word Dene.

I was profoundly moved at the memorial for the children who did not come home from Residential School. Being in solidarity, praying, listening, offering, and dancing, experiencing community… I did not receive the Eucharist, the Real Presence, as we believe, however, I was nourished by the real presence of each person. It occurred to me that perhaps this is what Jesus envisioned for “church”. These past few days I feel much like the disciples on the road to Emmaus… “were not our hearts burning…”

Was not my heart deeply moved!

I dream and pray and hope for a new way of “church” everywhere, but especially in the north; one in which spiritualities of many cultures can be woven together in a deep spiritual experience of community.

Sister Maggie Beaudette, CSJ

Thank you, Sister Eileen. RIP.

Not long ago, Sr. Eileen Foran sent me her final submission for our website blog.  It was short and inspiring, using an economy of words, as was her style.  At 96 and dealing with health issues, Sister knew her days were numbered.  However, she continued to send messages and phone calls to dear friends until shortly before her death.

Sister Eileen

When finally confined to her bed, Sister slept most of the time and put her COVID mask over her eyes for comfort. As I sat with her the night she peacefully died, I noticed the mask had been replaced by an attractive, black velvet mask bearing the eloquently written words, “Sleeping Beauty”. How apt it was for a loving, faith-filled, compassionate woman who died as had lived – beautiful and gentle to the end.

Thank you, dear Sister Eileen, for sharing your poetry and creative writing gifts on our website.

Rest in peace, dear Sleeping Beauty.

-Sister Jean Moylan, CSJ

Childhood Pastimes Revisited

Photo credit: Clément Fatize on Unsplash

Cleaning out my cloth carrying bag on the eve of my annual retreat I came across a small, wrinkled scrap of paper. The little note was almost completely covered with my scrawly handwriting. It was so tiny that it has stayed tucked, unnoticed at the bottom of the bag since the early days of the pandemic. Are you wondering what was written on it?

I need to offer a little background history before the reveal. My childhood friends and I used to employ our creative juices in creating imaginary book titles and their authors. One such title I recall was Cliff Life by Eileen Over. As childhood chums, we tried to outdo one another with our latest soon to be, “New Best Seller”.

Back to my paper find. I don’t actually recall when my list of imaginary titles and authors was composed. The titles suggest earlier rather than later in the pandemic timetable. Anyway, before I relegate my list to wastepaper basket in a spirit of lightheartedness, I share my pandemic titles.

Vaccines Distribution by Nee Del Sharp

Pandemic Price Gouging by Ethyl Alcohol

Unusual Symptoms of CCOVID by R. U. Well

As you enjoy summertime leisure perhaps my tale will activate your own creativity to try your own hand at creating relevant titles for future books.

Sister Nancy Wales, csj

Is This a New Moment for our Country?

It is only a few short days ago that the remains of 215 children were discovered on the grounds of a Residential school in Kamloops B.C and that a family of five out for a walk in London were intentionally run down by a speeding truck because they looked different. These are two instances that shook our country and so many of us have stopped to take a second look.  Many of us are asking what is our call right now?  How can we move with love and stand side by side with our dear neighbour in their suffering? 

I heard from a friend who shared a situation that happened to her and her father when they visited one of the Indigenous communities on Prince Edward Island.  There was a display set up in memory of the children and they wanted to go and pay their respects at the site.  There was an unexpected bonding that took place between her father who had been raised in an orphanage over 75 years ago and the woman they met whose father had been sent to a residential school on the Island at an early age.  It seemed that although their situations were different – they were the same.  Places of struggle and oppression where fear and mistrust of anyone in authority grew inside of these very young children which they still carry today.

As their conversation went on, the sharing of their stories became a healing moment of vulnerability as both parties realized that they – the white settler and the indigenous woman –had a commonality in each of their lives that they could name and claim in this moment as strangers.  Today, the display is to be taken down and my friend’s father has gone to assist with the task – certainly not something he would have ever dreamed of doing but now he has a new friend who is in need of assistance.  So easy when you think of it?  Neighbour helping neighbour. 

With Canada Day in a few short weeks, words from our National Anthem come to mind as I reflected on this dark moment in the history of our beloved country and our Province.

O Canada we stand on guard for thee. 

Is this our chance?  Could Canada Day 2021 be inviting each of us to create a new moment – where we can truly say together “we stand on guard as a Nation for you and you and you – and you are my sister and brother and we journey together for our children and our children’s children? 

-Sister Ann MacDonald, csj

Living in the In-Between Time

When I was asked to consider writing a blog from my own experience of living in this ‘in-between time’ I searched the dictionary for the definition of time and discovered words that reflected some of my lived experience during these past months.  

TIME:  the right moment; duration in which all things happen; precise instant that something happens.  

Of course, the daily challenge has been to stop, in the moment, to see what I am learning about the ‘in-between time’ and living that moment as best as I can. 

Moments come each day in our lives such as taking time to greet the cashier at the drug store rather than silently waiting to be checked out, or going over to the Community Centre on Thursdays when day-old bread is available for the residents to pick up and chatting about the weather or how their day is going, or standing on the front porch and chatting with Muriel as she walks her dog Murphy and we chat about all the plants that are coming to life. It seems that time is about presence and being present! 

We often hear and use phrases about time:  time off; time to work; time for holidays; time to go; time for ourselves and there are many more that can be added to this short list. This time of COVID, we have often heard that “we will never return to the way things were – there is something new happening – personally, and collectively – and this in-between time is re-shaping us, our neighborhoods, and the planet.   

I was struck recently when I re-read lines from the Poem – The Dash (by Linda Ellis, 1996), and I have selected a few lines to share. 

I read of a man who stood to speak

at the funeral of a friend 

he referred to the dates on the tombstone

from the beginning to the end. 

He noted that first came the date of birth. 

Then he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years. 

For that dash represents all the time that was spent alive on earth… 

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash. 

If we could just slow down enough to consider what is true and real 

And always try to understand the way other people feel. 

And love the people in our lives like we have never loved before. 

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile. 

Remembering that this special dash might only last a little while. 

Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?  

What has been your journey living the Dash during these months of COVID?   

-Sister Ann MacDonald, csj