PTG - Part 1 - The Power to Choose

Looking back, Grade 7 was one of the sadder years of my life.  I started Junior High School and realized how shy I was.  In my 6 years of elementary school, I attended the same school and knew  everyone my age.  I was comfortable with all of them.  Now, I was in Junior High School and students from two other schools became my school mates as there was only one Junior High School in my small town.  I was too shy to make friends.  I was also very sad.  My parents had sold the house that I loved and we were living in a new town house complex.  I did not like anything about it.  My father was retired and they decided that they didn't want the responsibility of home ownership.  The town house was to give them the freedom to travel.  My bedroom furniture did not fit in one bedroom as the rooms were so small.  I basically had my bed in one room and my dresser, my chest of drawers, and my desk in another room.  My desk was always important to me and I hated being separated from it.  The appliances that were included were avocado green and our dining room furniture and living room furniture didn't fit and we had to get new furniture.  The living room had orange shag carpet.  The walls were paper thin and we could clearly hear the conversations of our neighbours.  My beautiful yard to play in was replaced with a 6 by 10 feet yard with a half fence separating me from the neighbours.  We were all miserable but we didn't talk about it as this is what my parents chose.  Happily, one day in December, my mom came home from shopping and announced she bought a house.  They were starting building on a new subdivision and she had signed the papers on the first house to be built.  She had looked at the floor plan and she couldn't take our town house any more.  It would be ready to move in on May 1.  She told my dad he had to go down and sign papers at the bank the next day for the new mortgage.  I was curious on how my father would react to my mom buying a house impulsively.  He said, "thank God" before he even looked at the plans.  We all hated that town house.  Life started getting better for me the moment we moved.

Yet, during that horrible year of misery, I also learned about happiness.  One of the churches in my community sponsored a family of boat people.  At this time, in my small town, we didn't know the meaning of diversity.  We had Caucasian people and we had Indigenous people.  Actually, we also had two Oriental families who operated the two Chinese food restaurants but we only saw them when we would pick up our orders.  So, sponsoring this family of Vietnamese boat people was a big endeavor.  As it happened, they lived in our town house complex.  There was a boy my age who attended Junior High School so after a few weeks of walking the same path, we started walking together.  The young man could not speak a word of English and he never learned it other than my name.  He smiled all the time.  When he wasn't smiling, he was laughing.  I didn't know what he could possibly be happy about.  After all, he lived in one of the horrible town houses that I did.

I don't know what grade he was in or how the school system accommodated him but we walked the same path together to and from school.  I didn't know how to communicate with him since he didn't speak English so for a while, we walked in silence with him smiling every step of the way.  After a while, I just started talking.  I talked about my day, how much I hated the town house, or whatever came to mind.  He just listened to me intently despite not understanding me, and he kept smiling.  When he wasn't smiling, he was laughing.  Having my own personal audience helped me immensely with my shyness.  Since he was so receptive, I started experimenting and talking to other people.  My self-confidence increased.  Also, I learned how to solve problems.  By talking out loud, I learned how to brain storm solutions and come up with answers.

When winter started, he loved the snow.  He didn't have proper boots or a proper coat or mittens or a toque but he was always smiling.  He taught me a lot about empathy as this was the first time I really remember thinking of somebody else.  I asked my parents if I could use my allowance money to buy him some mitts, a scarf, and a toque.  My parents bought him a snow suit and boots to match the things I had bought.  He was so happy.  I was used to the snow and the cold and I wasn't happy to be walking to and from school.  It was friggin cold but he just smiled.

He invited me to his town house once.  There were about 10 people living in the town house.  None of them spoke English.  All of them smiled and laughed and treated me like royalty.  They gave me some food to take home.  I basically had been raised on steak, potatoes, perogies, and cabbage rolls.  I didn't recognize this food that they gave me and I tasted it with my eyes and said "yuck" and threw it out.  What did they have to be so happy about?  All those people living in that miserable town house. 

I am not sure what happened but the family had difficulty integrating into our small community.  They were relocated to a larger center where they had more supports and more peers.

By that time, we had moved into our house and I never had the opportunity to say good-bye. 

It wasn't until I was older that I realized what he was happy about.  I read about the Boat People and the pictures and the news reports were almost unbelievable.  We lived in a world where literally thousands of people without homes were crammed into boats and traveled for months, and sometimes years, hoping to find a place to call home.  Who knows what my friend and his family endured?  After becoming a parent, I can't imagine loading a boat with my children with little or no food and water with no apparent destination.  Refugees who do so most be leaving the most desperate of circumstances.

Whatever my friend endured, it was likely a lot worse than living a year in the town house.  Being shy seemed like such a trivial issue compared to not knowing if tomorrow was going to come.  I understood why he was so happy.  He already knew what would take me decades to learn.  Don't sweat the small stuff and it is all small stuff.

He could have chosen anger, bitterness, jealousy, or any other emotions to feel, and he chose to be happy.  He had everything stacked against him and he still chose to be happy.  Unfortunately, I don't think of my friend often enough.  I wish I would remember him every day.  This morning, something horrific happened to me.  I spilled my coffee on the newspaper I was reading.  I chose to be furious and wonder why these bad things always happen to me.  Then, I remembered my friend.  He would be happy and grateful that he had coffee and a newspaper and the ability to read it.  So, with that inspiration, I chose to be happy.

And the rest of the day was pretty great.

We can't chose what events will happen every day or we can't control what other people do.  Unfortunately, all humans are deeply flawed and don't always behave in ways that please us.  So, we can't control that.  But, we can control our reaction.  We can chose our reactions.  We can chose to be happy.

Of course, that is complicated.  Life is ridiculously unfair and some people just have too much bad in their life.  It is complicated for them to chose to be happy.  Complicated, yes, but also very simple.  You can just chose to be happy.

We spend time worrying about whether we are a glass half full or half empty kind of person.  I think of my friend and think how happy he would be just to have a glass, regardless of the contents.  If he and his family could chose happiness, I think I can make the effort as well.

I can't believe I thought Grade 7 was such a sad year.  I didn't have to worry about bills or adult responsibilities and I had two adoring parents.  I should have been happy every moment.

I still have bad memories about that horrible town house.  Orange shag carpet.  What were they thinking?  But, I should be grateful for the opportunity to meet my friend.  It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't lived there.  I wouldn't have met someone who always chose happiness.