I had just arrived at the dental surgeon’s office, ready for the root canal that I had been postponing for a few months, and my phone rang. It was the director of the settlement agency we’ve been working with. One of the families we’re sponsoring is arriving in Montréal on Friday, ready to be picked up by us on Saturday.

Ha. It’s really happening.

We’re not as ready as we could have been but things have been kicked into high gear, with so many beautiful souls pitching in and taking things on. New friends and old.

I wish this two week period weren’t the busiest farm and family-wise, but so be it. Between the root canal, the oil change I totally booked and took care of myself (you’re welcome, yaris!), the optometry appointment, and tomorrow the hospital specialist for kiddo, it’s been a real Adult week. It’s encouraging. We can do this.

They land in Canada tomorrow at 4pm. They are safe.

I can’t wait to meet them.

arabic french sign


I keep getting these really heart-warming glimpses of why it’s actually maybe better that they’re starting anew in a rural place. Talking on the phone with a fellow local organizer, he tells me that the principal of the school thinks it’s best that the school aged child start school after March break. (At this point, we had known that the family is arriving for maybe 6 hours). He knows because they’re related. And this place is just small enough for everyone to know that they’re coming, for all of the teachers to be ready, for the conversations at the mail boxes to be about where the adults could work once they’re settled in.

J’espère que ce sera sécurisant pour elles et pour eux. Que ce petit village qui devient mon chez moi, tranquillement pas vite, sera le leur aussi.


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