Journey Mercies

"Sago gatchi, ska na ka?"  I was trying to express my greetings to my sister Ivy back in Winnipeg, but she didn't seem to be getting it.  A little louder:  "Sago gatchi, ska na ka?" She still couldn't make it out.  Surely the issue couldn't have been my Bell cellular carrier.  After all, I was calling from Baddeck on Cape Breton Island - Canadian home of the inventor of the telephone.  Okay, duh!  I suddenly figured out the problem.  Ivy didn't know a word of Mohawk! Even as a kid in Scotland, Alexander Graham Bell was interested in how sound was produced.  As a sixteen-year-old he trained his Skye Terrier, Trouve, to be able to growl continuously. While Trouve was obediently growling, young Alexander would reach into its mouth and manipulate its lips and vocal cords to make the sounds "Ow ah oo gamama."  With his dog trained, Bell was able to convince his freens that he had a talking terrier who, on cue, would recite what sounded like ...

I'm going to try to connect three different stories but I'm afraid the transitions might be as awkward as Matthew felt when he was given a hug by Anne.  Not familiar with that reference?  Then I better begin with that story. Story #1 My favorite scene from the Megan Follows version of Anne of Green Gables took place in the barn.  Anne had just found the puffed-sleeve dress that Matthew had bought for her and placed on her bed.  Matthew was the lifelong bachelor who, along with his spinster sister, had adopted Anne.  Anne put the dress on and rushed to the barn to thank Matthew, but all she could do was stare at him with misty eyes.  Finally he said, "Don't you like it?"  "Like it?  It's more exquisite than any dress I could ever imagine!  You are a man of impeccable taste Matthew."  I'm sure Matthew wanted to give her a hug but kissed Anne on the forehead instead, explaining that he didn't want to get her dress dirty.  That's when A...

  I was pleasantly surprised to see this sign near Fort Francis, Ontario.  We were barely a day out of Winnipeg and we were already over the hump.  It was all downhill from here.  But did they measure the 1660 feet from high or low tide?  We'd be hitting the Atlantic at the Bay of Fundy with the world's highest tides.  A fifty foot drop between ebb and flow could make quite a difference on our angle of descent.  I didn't bother doing the math.  What I was thinking about was all the gas I would save as I slipped the transmission into neutral and prepared to coast.   Waiting. Waiting. Not rolling. I gave up and popped it back into drive.  As we approached Fundy National Park in New Brunswick a couple of weeks later, we hit the biggest hills of our journey.  Going downhill I would put the RV into second to save on the brakes.  I'm guessing a couple of times my engine revved a little too high and then suddenly I realized my ov...

We've been trying to sample local cuisine as we move across Canada.  Our last meal in Quebec was poutine with an unrequested layer of peas on top.  Quebecois invented poutine so I guess they can decide how it should be served.  As we crossed into Nouveau Brunswick, French continued as the spoken language but there was a subtle change in culture.   Following the St. John River we soon found an establishment that served up local fare.  Popeye's Louisiana Kitchen.  I sense some raised eyebrows from my readership so I feel I have to defend myself.  French settlers started settling the Maritimes in the 1600's.    They called their home Acadia - paradise - and started happily turning marshland into farmland.  All was quite idyllic until the British took control.  The Brits felt like they couldn't trust the Acadians because that's the way England felt towards France in some far-off European conflict.  The solution?  Deport t...

I was having an inner struggle to end an otherwise fantastic first day in Quebec.  As we traveled through the eastern townships I was loving the rustic old barns and stone houses. I was doing just fine figuring out the French signs.  I had followed the debate a few years ago when the province forbade English on signage but I was good with that.  I understood Quebec's desire to protect their language and culture.  But now, as we approached Parc National Frontenac, I was starting to get a little irritated. There are a lot of English-speaking people across Canada, including me, who pay taxes for the National Parks.  They are a Canadian thing - not a Quebec thing.  Surely they could give us directions on how to get there in both languages.  And was it my imagination or did the guy at the desk seem a little grumpy at being forced to answer my questions in his halting English?  Now I was starting to see scowls on everyone's faces.  And where was th...

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a coolabah tree. And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled "You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!" As we waltzed our Matilda through Perth (Ontario that is - not Australia) towards Ottawa, I was thinking a bit about National Anthems.  Australia's, officially, is God Save the _____ (insert King Or Queen depending on the gender of the current monarch.)  Unofficially it's Waltzing Matilda.  If you listen to it, you might want to have an Aussie-to-English dictionary handy. I had been wondering, if Canada were to have an unofficial anthem, what it might be.  There wasn't an obvious that's-it-for- sure song that jumped out at me but I settled on Land of the Silver Birch as being suitable. Land of the Silver birch, home of the beaver, Where still the mighty moose wanders at will; Blue lake and rocky shore, I will return once more, Boom de de boom de de boom boom boom. The song...

It can be a little intimidating for a couple of country bumpkins like us to head into a mosh pit like Toronto.  But we've been called to pray around Canada and a lot of Canadians live in Toronto.  Conventional wisdom would say that if you DO have to pray through Toronto in a lumbering old motorhome, stay on the freeways and let Google Maps guide you through.  But we've noticed that Google and the Holy Spirit don't always choose the same route. The first time we went to visit Bill and Donna was to ask them an important question.  Are Patty and I meant to get married?  We knew they heard directly from God and wanted to get the inside scoop.  Bill's answer after an hour of listening for guidance?  "I didn't hear anything.  All I felt was praise."  From that I learned a lesson that has stayed with me my whole life and into our present journey:  God never promised to show us the end. He's not a fortune teller. He only promised to lead us. Now...