We were the last off the airplane. Our flight took us out of Bangkok, via Hong Kong, landing in Vancouver. I had packed a few things to keep the children occupied, and the airline gave each of them a small backpack full of useful items, which remained for years as memory of the journey that brought them to Canada to start a new life.
My children, aged 3, 5, 7 and 9 were quite unaware of what lay ahead of them. My father and brother both happened to be in Vancouver that day, and unbeknownst to each other, they each arrived with a set of warm, second-hand coats for me and the children. My 9-yr old, who was supposed to be my biggest helper ended up quite ill from the stress of that long flight. The flight attendants suggested we just wait until someone could come along with a wheelchair to help us. Apparently the man who wheeled my daughter out with the rest of us following close behind was a big-shot in the airport. We were treated as celebrities.
The drive home to my parent’s place, about 5 hours, was quiet and pleasant, as we were exhausted and the kids slept most of the way. That was the beginning of our new beginning. We stayed with mom and dad for 6 weeks, learning how to live in Canada, experiencing ER visits and hospital stays, starting school as ESL students, finding a church that might accept a single mom with 4 little kids. So many new things for the children. What for me seemed like normal life, for them must have been terrifying and confusing. They had a very limited understanding of English, and no concept of how to entertain themselves during free, unstructured play-time. Saying, “go outside and play in the backyard” was answered with (in Thai) “what are we supposed to do?”
I arrived in Canada with 4 kids, 2 suitcases and $100. From there, through the generosity of family, friends, strangers and the government I began to rebuild my life, again. And it wasn’t the last time I had to rebuild.
Reflections 