between our steps 04 15 20 double
Every year, the assigned reading for the Sunday after Easter in many churches is the story of Thomas the Doubter. After the glorious faithful stories of the day of resurrection, we get a story where someone struggles to believe. It is a gift.

Walking on the road Monday morning, I doubted that the predicted storm had come. The road was damp but not streaming wet. Gentle drops fell from the trees onto the carpet of maple leaves. There was no wind.

The water was quiet near shore. Out farther, a few white caps broke the grey-green surface. By noon, however, the water showed us the storm. A rush of sound would be followed by a suddenly smooth circle on the water surrounded by sudden waves that spread in all directions. As the afternoon progressed, the still places where the downdraft hit were still there, but the resulting waves became wild, pressing water out away from the shore. We knew that places exposed to the west would be hit hard. We realized that our limited, protected perspective led to our doubt.

I wonder if anyone still doubts that social distancing measures were needed? Almost 7,500 cases of Covid 19 have been confirmed. Because testing in Ontario has been slow, we don't know how many mild cases are in the community. Models predict up to a million. And people of all ages end up in ICU because of the way the virus attacks the lungs.

Almost 300 deaths at the point I started to draft this column, half of these in long term care homes. Eight or nine of these homes have outbreaks, and some of these have had devastating consequences. No one can doubt the vulnerability of our elders.

For years, we have seen diseases like Norwalk virus spread through these homes. For years, people have argued that the homes are understaffed. Reports have argued that workers moving between homes to put together enough hours for a living wage endangers residents. Did we doubt these reports? The regulatory framework certainly didn't shift. I hope our doubts of these reports have been lifted, and change will happen.

I worry about children who struggle with school. Parents have had to advocate for these children so that they got the extra attention they needed to learn, so that their integration into the classroom is facilitated. Now out of routine, I worry whether the resources will be in place to help them return.

Some parents have the personal resources to teach their children at home, at least through elementary school courses. When these children get back to school, whenever that is, will the teachers get time to prepare, time to be ready to ease all the children back into school routines? If there is a window late this spring for a return to classrooms, I doubt that the start up will be gradual and well planned. I worry that impatience will take over.

There was a quick note in March that no Grade Twelve student would lose their year, but is the work happening to negotiate with universities and colleges to let them in with the credits they have? Is the government providing online courses for all those kids? University and college courses went online to complete the winter term, to cover the upcoming spring term. What I have heard is that this has been inconsistent for highschool students. At this point I doubt that the promise will be fulfilled in a meaningful way for all students.

An aura of doubt that hangs over us. The Prime Minister says that there will be enough help to get people and businesses through, but as I think of plant nurseries, I wonder how that can happen for them. It is hard to believe the promise, easy to doubt.

Doubt can block hope. But doubt also highlights issues that have to be addressed. Doubt can point out holes in a pattern, gaps in a system. It shows us the limit of our perspective. Doubt can help us to see clearly issues that have lain hidden. It is true that doubt can paralyze. But if we hold it lightly, if we let it be a window rather than a road, doubt can help us to catch sight of things that need to be seen.

Cathy Hird lives on the shore of Georgian Bay