Relaxing during our summer evening meals at the cottage often leads to interesting discussions. Recently, we four vacationers were discussing the state of the war in Ukraine and other world hot spots. Sister D’s thoughts soon turned to her experience of World War ll through the eyes of a young girl in a family of nine who endured the travails of the war in the Netherlands. They lived in a rural setting, not far from the city of Makkum.
She spoke of hearing the drone of enemy planes overhead and wondered what that might mean. Although being surrounded with worry, her parents provided safety from fear. “Our Dutch world was upset but going to school remained a priority.” One day as the children set out to walk to the local school, they were turned back because the school building was needed for emergency care of the wounded. Puzzled, they trudged the seven-kilometer journey home.
Sister D continued her story, Sometimes, gunshots were heard regularly in the city but not out in the country where we lived. From time to time, a large airplane with a visible Canadian Red Cross sign would fly over the farm fields. How excited we were when they dropped large crates of oranges and canvas bags of supplies into the fields. The farmers would quickly collect the items and deliver them to the city schools. I’ll never forget the pretty green skirt I once received. We also gratefully received our treasured orange wrapped in soft tissue, and excitedly ate it, savoring every morsel. Even the peel was not wasted. We would put a piece of it in our pockets so we could enjoy its sweet smell. To this day, the Dutch people have never forgotten the bravery of the pilots and generosity of Canadians who made those wonderful sky drops that filled our hearts with excitement and gratitude.
After the war, in 1951 when I was fourteen, my family moved to Canada. I remember being on a train from Halifax to Montreal. Looking out the windows, we were amazed at the size of Canada with its vast crops, soaring mountains, and rolling hills. We were awed at the beauty surrounding us on all sides, especially the tumbling waterfalls that seemed to pop out of nowhere.
Ever since those war years, The Canadian Red Cross has meant a lot to me; I longed to work for them. As the years passed, I had an opportunity to do so and was hired as a registered nursing assistant to attend to the sick and elderly in their homes. At last, I was fulfilling my dream to express deep appreciation to The Canadian Red Cross. Proudly, I carried my Red Cross bag from client to client. Still today, this great organization continues their outreach to help where help is needed most”.
Those of us listening at the dinner table were moved deeply by having one of our Sisters share her war experience. May Canada remain a welcoming land and may countries at war soon experience peace.
-Sister Jean Moylan, CSJ