“I give you two years.” He spoke with cynicism in his voice. “Two years, and you will be gone.”
Well, if this little speech was supposed to inspire me, it wasn’t working. Truth be told, I was only there because my husband had been offered a job. It wasn’t that I was opposed to moving to Canada, but it certainly hadn’t been part of my master plan.
I was 22, immature, and beginning to wonder if leaving my family and country behind to come to a place where I felt more tolerated than wanted a great deal of the time was really worth it.
Then this thought (no doubt mixed with a little stubbornness) floated through my frustration.
“I come from pioneer stock. If those men and women were able to go into a wilderness with bears, wildcats, Indians, and no mall, then surely, I could make also make it in a new land.”
Pioneer stock, you say?
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