Unusual Summer Visitors

Yvonne and Steve Houle with their rescue Alpacas.

On a bright and sunny mid-August afternoon, our Sisters gathered in our beautiful, enclosed garden to meet Reuben and Gibson and their expert caregivers, Yvonne and Steve Houle.  These large, elegant alpacas from S.A.M.Y.’s Alpaca Farm and Fabric Studio in Kerwood, Ontario are not traveling animals. They made a special visit in response to a request from a staff member who knows them and their work. 

When the two shy, gentle alpacas were led into the garden, we were awed to see them approach us with a timid, personable stride.   The Sisters were eager to stroke their long necks and offer oat treats which they gently nuzzled from outstretched elderly hands. 

During the afternoon, Steve and Yvonne brought the animals to meet each sister, some of our staff, Hospice staff, and several visitors.  Cellphones quickly appeared to capture the striking scenes of joy and interaction.  Special treats including cooling punch, alpaca-themed napkins and alpaca-shaped sugar cookies kept us fed and hydrated as we watched the alpacas admire their own images in the care centre windows. Throughout the garden, our animal visitors mingled among the fascinated onlookers. 

Steve and Yvonne were generous with their time, answering our many questions.  We learned that alpacas, originally from Peru and Bolivia, have made their way to Canada but not in great numbers.  They are raised for their fiber. May is shearing time, and the fiber is sent from their farm to a mill in North Bay, Ontario where it will be transformed into beautiful, treasured sweaters, etc. In fact, one of our Sisters has an attractive alpaca towel. 

All too soon, it was time for Reuben and Gibson to join the 48-alpaca herd back on the farm.  As we bade farewell to Yvonne and Steve, we were loud in our gratitude for introducing us to another one of God’s beautiful creatures. 

-Sister Jean Moylan, csj

Resiliency and Hope

Photo by Sister Loretta Hagan, csj

August 13, 2023 was a typical Sunday morning. My plans for the day were to attend Mass at Assumption Parish in Hay River, NWT and then possibly travel down the highway to catch the last part of the music jamboree in the hamlet of Enterprise. That afternoon our lives would be changed, and our plans up-ended.

These are the words that began a blog I wrote on October 2, 2023, titled A Journey Through Wildfire Evacuation. I told my experience of the evacuation in Hay River, NWT (North West Territories) which lasted 5 weeks. The words that ended my blog are as follows,

We know that next spring there will be new growth, bright green amid the charred trees still standing and beautiful purple fireweed will bloom.

Well, spring has come, and summer 2024 has arrived, and the fireweed has grown and blossomed.

The journey did not end with the blog in October of last year. Little did I realize the deep, lasting effects of that Sunday afternoon in 2023. A strong wind, a certain colour in the sky, the smell of smoke, or smoke blowing in from distant fires, would cause anxiety. Tears would flow at the most unexpected times or circumstances. It did not matter in which direction I drove that I was not met with vast expanses of burnt trees. Tears would run down my cheeks as I drove.

Photo by Doug Swallow

And then, guilt set in. Why was I feeling this way when I had not lost my home as many had in Enterprise and in Patterson Road?  I did not experience the flames and falling trees as folks did who left, not much later, the one road out, compromised with debris. I was blessed to have been given a ride out, with my cat and a beautiful home to stay in, while others had only a hotel room with children and pets, in some instances.

Picture of the fireweed by Doug Swallow

On three separate occasions, three people who know me well suggested that perhaps I should see a counselor. In December I took their advice. It was the best decision I could have made. With guidance, I saw that I did lose something in the loss of the trees, in the displacement or perhaps death of some animals and their habitat. I was not able to help, as I would normally do in a crisis. My feelings were validated, and I was given strategies which would help me in times of anxiety or sadness.

Last week Sister Loretta and I drove along the back road to see the fireweed. Yes, that is what people were saying, “The fireweed has come”, as if it were a soothing salve. It gives me hope.

On Saturday we went down the highway to Enterprise. Approximately 90 % of homes and structures were destroyed in the fire, and yet the annual music jamboree was held. There was great joy in coming together as a community and yes, tears were shed as we remembered.

Today marks one year since the evacuation alert sounded. Today we see the gift of the fireweed…and resiliency and hope.

Sister Maggie Beaudette, CSJ

Photos: Doug Swallow, Sister Loretta Hagen