Being Danish Canadian

I was brought to Canada when I was 4 years old.  We sailed from Odense, Denmark in 1957 and landed in Halifax from whence we took a train to Toronto.  I can actually remember the train ride and the hotel we stayed in for several weeks while my parents looked for a decent apartment.  As I’ve written before, they had some very rude surprise awaiting them in this country the first of which was finding a decent place to live in Toronto.

Now making that statement I can anticipate born Canadians may ruffle their feathers and make the remark “why didn’t you go back where you came from” to which I want to respond by simply slapping their faces.  Stupid response to a stupid question, I know.  However, as I cannot do that in a virtual environment (and of course I wouldn’t really do that “live”) I will say what I normally say “number one, they couldn’t afford to turn tail and run and number two, they came here to make a better life but the people who invited them here did not live up to their promises”.  

Why am I bringing this up today?  Here’s why, I want to express some gratitude as well as some concern. 

I am very grateful that I live in a safe country like Canada.  I was talking with my mother the other day about how it was when she first came over here and finally she said to me “you know, it was not easy, we had a lot of very hard times.  It was very, very hard.  Dad had a really good (top) job in Odense, we had a beautiful modern apartment, we had access to the best food and because your dad listened to those men from Canada Packers we came over here where he had to start from the ground up.  He was “maester" (equivalent to General Manager) in the most modern meat plant in Denmark to become a butcher again.  It was really hard on him (and on me).”  Mom had never talked like that before and I was deeply impressed with how silent she has been all these years about how tough they had it.  It was a terrible shock to not get the job he had been promised when he made the decision to sell everything and take 3 small children and a wife to a country where he knew absolutely no one.  I cannot imagine what courage it took for them to go and to stay.  When you came to Canada in 1957 you did it on your own, no aid whatsoever.

I’ve asked my dad many times what brought him to Canada and he said that he chose Canada over South Africa, Australia and the United States because it was the safest place, in his opinion, of any country in 1957.  He had lived through World War II in Occupied Denmark and he did not want to see that happen for his children.  When I was in Europe this summer I was very, very uneasy about the news blasting away morning, noon and night.  Since returning home I have slept badly and have a number of nightmares that has me waking up in a sweat.  I listen to the news, to the continued fighting in the Middle East, to the posturing by Russia and the United States, to plane crashes and migration crises.  I am stressed out and do not see a good outcome in the years ahead.  So I thank my parents for being survivors in immigrating to a country where we are relatively safe from harm and I thank Canada for being a safe haven for me and mine.

I was born Danish but I am a Canadian.