- by Caroline Menzies

sometimes something profound happens that transforms me and won't let me not write about it. Like this incident from yesterday in the walkway beside City Hall.

I find crowds excruciating, so my daughter and I wove our way through the bottleneck of people to a spot where the energy seemed right. We stopped when there was adequate space around me and a tree in front of me. Then I noticed a First Nation elder standing just ahead and slightly left, and two Muslim women ahead to my right. The elder's thick grey braid hung down his back and was adorned with an inverted feather. It was painted all over, mostly blue, white and black, and at the top was an eagle. Throughout the ceremony to decry hatred and violence against Muslims and mourn for those murdered in Quebec, I stared at that sacred feather in awe. During the speeches, tears flowed freely down his face and down the face of the man beside him, revealing the depth of pain in their hearts.

It was bitterly cold and I'd stupidly left my gloves at my art studio. We stood, we listened and we joined hands to sing together. My daughter, aware of my freezing hands, wrapped her gloved fingers around mine to keep them warm. The woman who held my other hand had fuzzy mitts that were also warm. We sang 'O Canada,' and I hesitated, trying to hear the words people were singing: was it 'Our sons' command...' or 'Our sons' and daughters' command...?' Then I heard his voice, resonant and piercingly beautiful, a voice so pure it could heal a world of hurt, singing the national anthem in his own language. I stopped worrying about knowing the right words and let this gift wrap around me.

It barely occurs to me anymore that I'm an immigrant, unless I hear the word 'immigrant,' which I did on this occasion from our mayor. I didn't come here to escape bombs or persecution – we came here simply for a better life, and despite its ignoble history with its indigenous people, I have been proud and happy for many years to call this my home. Whatever our origins in relationship to this land, where distances between communities are often vast, today we stand together against hatred, bigotry and violence. Today, I watched those distances shrink effortlessly before my eyes, and I'm so grateful I was part of it.