I baked last night- I baked the same recipe I’ve been baking since October (for our Canadian Thanksgiving). It was a hit, and when I find something different to bake, that is actually accepted here at home (trust me the three I bake for are a fussy batch. I can’t say too much, I’m just as fussy if not worse) I tend to stick to it. I might, might, might post a few recipes this month. But we have to finish this ChildHood series first:
If you’re just beginning this series, remember the beginning is the best place to start:
Find Previous Installments Here:
ChildHood – Installment I
Our future destination was again tossed up into the air, and uncertain. For a minute there it had seemed as if we were finally going to return to Brazil. I began making plans, began to hoard English books. Books I’d normally never buy where bought and stored into boxes because, I did not want to get rusty on my English, and I had every intention of making Victor read English literature every day for the res of his life in order to keep his native language polished. But in the end, it all turned out to be a false alarm, and Brazil was not to be mine for keeps. Instead, we were to move to the West Coast- to Beautiful British Columbia.
I’ve tried to explain before, my ardent desire to move back to Brazil, but maybe I didn’t do a very good job. Brazil is my homeland, and I am very patriotic. Many times I’ve seen immigrants come to North America and become very patriotic towards their new country. But to me, the sense of pride of Americans and Canadians to their country, is something that I do admire, but it only infected me to be patriotic of my own home land. Brazil. No I’m not over fanatic or anything, I simply love Brazil. I could list reasons, maybe I will next Independence Day, but Brazil is more to me than just a wonderful country. It’s where my family lives, my grandparents, my cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. They’re all there! We’re the only ones living far away, and we miss our boisterous family terribly. There’s also the matter that it’s a different culture all together. Brazilians, although we don’t speak Spanish, have quite a few similarities with our Hispanic neighbors. We’re a warm society, a warm culture, respectful to other’s differences, and we do our best to accommodate your wants and needs. We try to be inclusive, and overall Brazilians are a happy, teasing sort. I missed it all, and I wanted to go back.
So it’s a wonder that when it was decided we weren’t going to Brazil, I wasn’t crushed. I had announced to family and friends that I was coming home, (they doubted it) but I was sure this time we would make it. But then a meeting was held, and our future was to be resolved. I should be used to this, the uncertainty, but it still gives me butterflies in my stomach every time it happens. The meetings held were to discuss several church matters, including our move, and they lasted a couple of days. It gave me time to pray. I prayed to God, that if it were His will to allow us to move back home, I was ready. However, if He had something else in mind, He was going to have to do something about it. He was going to have to change my heart. And He did. Yes. Just like that.
Dad came home announcing the committee had decided it might be best for us to stay in Canada for a while, just until the GC meetings in August through September
. So they were stationing us to the West Coast. With no trouble I began to google British Columbia, and cities, and my attention was fully absorbed in West Canada. Seems fickle, but I’m glad the transition was so smooth, I’m glad I didn’t get disappointed, it was a lot easier than I expected, and for this I am grateful.
We knew there was a chance we’d stay here permanently (which is why we’re still living out of suitcases and haven’t bought but the most basic furniture), but we also knew there was a chance they’d move us again. So I made plans, but I didn’t write them in stone. I studied, I looked for Universities nearby, I scanned the area for possible jobs, I took courses preparing for a job, I got my driver’s permit, and life continued.
Abbotsford has been a lovely phase. We have no church here, but we have a small weekly group that gets together often to study God’s word. I think, Abbotsford has been some what of a time of rest. We came out of a storm, and God gave us a time of smooth sailing. We’ve been here for almost a year now. Daddy traveled a lot this past year for his job. Victor went from, being afraid to put his head underwater in the bathtub, to touching the bottom of the pool’s deep end. I’ve finished a year and a half of school-work, become a certified lifeguard, and begun a blog. Mother has made new friends, learnt to surf the net on her own, and had time to begin new projects. It was a great year, a year to pause a little bit and wait. To learn patience.
Then in September, it was decided that Abbotsford really was only temporary. We are to move again. As soon as our paperwork is figured out, we move to Virginia! I can’t say much about Abbotsford that I haven’t already blogged about. British Columbia is beautiful, and the people of Abbotsford quite friendly. I’ve enjoyed living here, and I don’t think I’d mind to much if we had to stay. But I’ve missed going to church, (I never thought I as a Preacher’s kid would ever have to say that) but I do. And I’ve got plans for Virginia. Plans, that aren’t written out in stone, and are very likely to change, but I’ve got ideas and silhouettes for the future.
I’m glad we came to Abbotsford, and I’m quite excited to see where the next leg of our journey will take us and how it will unfold. If you’re excited too, don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.
|When we moved, Sister Brenda gave us a puzzle with thousands of pieces. We finished it during the first few lonely winter months here in BC. It took us a while, but we finished it! Thank you Sister Brenda!