Thursday, August 28th
Trinity, Miriam’s home, 8 am
Miriam woke up early the following morning. While she was still in Italy, Father Mark had found a little home to rent for her. The bungalow was ten minutes on foot from Don Bosco High School and a pleasant twenty to twenty-five minute walk from the High Street and the centre of the town. Miriam didn’t mind walking, in fact, in her hometown, she used her car only to go shopping or to visit another town. In the last few years she had used the car to drive her father to the frequent check-ups.
Father Mark had told her that the secretary of the school, Angela Dawson, had done some basic food shopping for her and had taken care of all the things she could need in the first few days.
Miriam had arrived the previous day in the late afternoon from the airport and she was really tired because of the long journey and the jet lag. So, after unpacking, she had gone to bed early and now she felt refreshed.
She remained sitting on her bed and looked around. Her new home was really small, so different from the spacious apartment in Padua where she had grown up. Her bedroom was large enough to contain a double bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. Miriam got up, opened the door of the wardrobe and in a corner she saw some blankets, bed linen and towels. Next to the bedroom, there was a fairly large bathroom, with a tub and a shower. In a corner of the bathroom, there was also a top-loading washing machine. A small corridor led to the living-dining room, with a sofa bed and two armchairs, a fairly large table with six chairs around it and a fitted kitchen wall, with many wooden cabinets and cupboards. The kitchen furniture was similar to the one she had in Italy, light brown with brass knobs, the cooker, the oven and a double basin sink. There was a little dishwasher under the sink.
From Italy, she had brought her moka pot, in reality, one small moka for herself and one for three cups in case she had guests. While Miriam was preparing a cup of espresso, she had a look around: in a corner of the worktop, she saw an electric kettle she could use to prepare tea or a tisane. She had gotten used to drinking herbal tea after dinner with her dad, and after he had died, she had continued to do so even though, every time, memories of so many happy moments came to her mind and filled her heart with emotion. In the cupboards and the cabinets, Miriam saw just some plates, cups, saucers, cutlery and utensils, so she decided to make a list of the things she may need.
The scent of coffee brought her back to the mornings in Italy, when she got ready to go to school. She had arrived the previous day, but she felt as if she had left Italy months before, as if a long time had passed since she had embraced Father Lucio at the airport in Venice.
While she was drinking her coffee and eating a few biscuits, she saw a desk with a chair behind it in a corner of the living room under the window. The perfect spot to correct homework and prepare lessons, she thought.
A little foyer led to the front door. She opened it and saw that just three steps separated the house from a little but pleasant garden. In Italy, she lived in a block of flats in a residential area but she had always missed a garden or a green space, especially in the last months of her dad’s life when he would have enjoyed sitting outside. In the garden, there was a short path that led to the street and this struck Miriam because there was no fence. In Italy this would have been impossible, every garden was separated from the others and the street by high hedges or iron or wooden fences.
She went back into the house and walked to another door in the kitchen. There was a tiny backyard. This had a fence behind it and she reflected that, even if it was really small, it would be pleasant to sit on a chair or on a bench to read in the evening or just to relax.
Miriam had noticed during her tour of the house that there were some sticky notes on the desk, together with a map of the town of Trinity and a coach timetable. Now, she took the laptop from her bag, sat down on the chair and read the notes. One was a list of phone numbers: Father Mark’s, Mrs Dawson’s and the school office. On another one, there were the first important school meetings for the following days with dates and times. The third note was written by Mrs Dawson, “Welcome to Canada, if you need anything, call me! Angela.”
Miriam decided to call her immediately to thank her for her kindness. She took her mobile phone. At the airport, she had bought a Canadian SIM card and she had substituted it for the Italian one. She thought sadly that she had no one in Italy to tell that she was all right, apart from Father Lucio… No family, no connections to her home country, just a few friends and colleagues.
Mrs Dawson answered after a few rings.
“Mrs Dawson, it’s Miriam Busati. I arrived from Italy yesterday!”
“Miss Busati, welcome to Canada and to our town. I hope you will feel at home here!” The enthusiastic and very kind voice certainly made her feel at home. “And please, call me Angela. Everybody at school uses first names!”
“Thanks, Angela, and, please, call me Miriam. I am very glad to be here, I was looking forward to my new experience… Thanks for doing the shopping for me and for everything I have found in my new home.” Miriam looked at the school calendar on her desk and added, “ I think I will see you tomorrow!”
“Yes,” Mrs Dawson replied, “we are all looking forward to meeting you, and you’ll see, Father Mark has been wonderful in the last few years at creating the atmosphere of a real family in our staff.” Miriam felt the affection of the secretary for the people who worked at and attended her school and for Father Mark.
“Thanks, Angela, I hope I will be able to give my contribution. I have always liked teaching and working with teenagers. See you tomorrow, then, and thanks again.”
“See you, Miriam…” Miriam ended the call feeling a little less lonely and abandoned. She was in a foreign country, and behind her, in her home country, she felt a great void, but in front of her, she expected a world full of new acquaintances, new friends, new experiences… She was really eager to start.
Trinity, Kilton Motor Company, 6 pm
Steve was looking forward to finishing work at the Kilton Motor Company because he would drive to Oshawa to meet his new girlfriend. This time he felt she was the right one. She was not like his previous girlfriends or lovers. Jill was a good girl; she had her regular job at the hairdresser’s salon near her home, she liked a quiet life, going to the cinema, going for a walk, going shopping, not expensive parties or dangerous hobbies like Steve’s. In fact, he had not dared to tell her about his habits, about that diner, the Trucker, where he spent his Friday and Saturday nights playing cards and spending money with disreputable ‘friends’. She only knew he worked as an accountant in a car dealing company in Trinity and that he lived alone outside the town.
As soon as he left the office, he took his car and drove to Oshawa, it was more or less half an hour by car. He arrived just when Jill and her colleagues were closing the salon. Jill smiled at him and invited him to her home for a cup of coffee before going to eat out together. They usually went to a little diner in the centre of Oshawa; very intimate and cosy and not too expensive.
Steve was not a handsome man, but he had a pleasant smile, was tall and slim, in his late thirties but he looked younger, maybe because he had a perennial boyish face. Jill, instead, looked older than her age, perhaps because of the heavy make-up she constantly applied to her face, but she had a sweet smile.
While she was getting ready to go out and he was sitting in her living room, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, and his expression became visibly worried,
“Hi,” he said curtly, while Jill was coming back into the living room. Steve listened for a few minutes and then tried to sound calm when he said, “OK, but I had told you not to call me tonight. See you tomorrow at the usual place and time.” On the other end, the voice kept on talking. Steve became increasingly nervous. “Can’t we talk tomorrow? I see no reason for discussing this now. I will be there, OK?” And he ended the call without waiting for an answer. It was not the first time Jill had witnessed a similar call, but when she had asked him what the matter was, the answers had been evasive and vague: problems at work, a discussion with a friend…
She looked at him now and commented ironically, “You seem to have a lot of discussions with your friends!”
Steve looked at her imploringly, “Please, Jill, stay out of it!”
But during the dinner, Jill said in a serious tone, “Steve, I know you are worried about something and you are often distracted, you keep looking at that mobile phone as if it could explode. I like being with you, I think you are a good man and you are always kind and considerate. I have seldom found such a gentle and pleasant man as you, but I think you have a kind of second life, a life that I know nothing about and where you don’t want me, a life that I feel I wouldn’t like. If you have a problem we can face it together. I don’t want secrets between us, at least if your intentions are serious. I have no secrets for you. Please, Steve,” she had added, looking at him with affection.
Steve took her hand in his and told her, “Please, Jill, if I ask you to stay out of it, I really mean it. I have big, big problems with some guys I don’t want you to even meet…” his voice trailed off and Jill decided not to press him to explain. She was really feeling something for this man who was completely different from the men she had gone out with before. She was used to demanding men, who always thought more about her beauty and attractiveness and less about her feelings. Steve was always kind, he cared about her feelings, he was very attentive to her words, to her opinions.
The rest of the evening was spent talking about their colleagues, their work and she didn’t press him further but she silently made up her mind to try to find out something more about this dark side of his life.
Trinity, Miriam's home, 7 pm
Miriam had spent her first day in Canada in a pleasant and quiet way. She had gone to do some shopping in the nearby shopping mall and then she had explored the path that bordered the lake. It was really a pleasant walk among the trees and the flowers in the luxuriant late summer nature. When the path reached the centre of the town, there was a small harbour and a pedestrian walk that led to a little lighthouse. She had decided not to explore it that evening, but she felt that this would become one of her favourite places, so peaceful and pleasant. At sunset, Miriam had stopped on a bench and watched the beauty of the colours of the sun on the lake. She had thought of her life so far, full of satisfaction in her job but so devoid of love in her family; only her dad had given her affection and a real sense of family life. Her stepmother and stepsister had done their best to make her feel outside their family, even if she didn’t know at that time that she did not belong to it. She reflected that her dad had not become her stepfather in her heart after reading his letter, while she had instinctively detached herself from her sister and mother whom she now referred to as stepmother and -sister.
She sighed and stood up, it was getting cooler now that the sun had set and she decided to go back home and make dinner.
Before going out she had written an email to Father Lucio, the only person in Italy who had asked her to keep in touch.
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‘Dear Lucio,
Here I am in Canada. I still can’t believe that my dream of teaching Italian abroad is finally coming true and that my wish to visit Canada is being fulfilled.
I arrived yesterday, after a pleasant flight, at the airport in Toronto. It was wonderful to see the skyline from above as we were approaching the city. It must be a wonderful town and I am looking forward to visiting it. Father Mark was at the airport and he drove me to Trinity. I can understand now all the things you told me about Mark, he is really a joyful man and it is comforting and pleasant to hear him talk. He has a positive vision of life and I think he has a great heart and an enormous faith in God’s Providence. I believe I have a lot to learn from him. He has been living in the Community of Don Bosco High School here in Trinity for five years now, before that, he used to live in Toronto. From the way he talks, you can immediately understand that he loves his students and his staff and he considers the school as a family.
We took a highway that first passed through the city of Toronto but then went along the lake with beautiful landscapes, small towns or villages. It gave me an impression of great peace and serenity, but just a few miles from a big metropolis like Toronto. Lucio, I must tell you: no soccer stadiums here but diamond-shaped baseball fields. Father Mark told me that they practice baseball and basketball at school. I am looking forward to getting to know baseball, which is totally new for me.
I have already seen beautiful paths along the lake where I can walk when I have time, you know how much I love walking.
Father Mark has found a beautiful bungalow for me, it is near the school and not far from the centre of the town, there is also a small shopping mall nearby. I enclose some photos of my new home and the garden for you to see.
Tomorrow I am visiting the school for the first time, even if I have already seen it from outside. I will have a meeting with my new colleagues and the staff, and I am excited. Will I be able to teach in a completely different environment? Will I be a good teacher for these students who have a different background, a different mentality? And the families? Will I be able to approach parents in the right way? Oh, Lucio, I have so many questions… But I am following your advice, I am praying and I believe my dad is near me all the time. He knew how much I longed for this experience and he will support me, I am sure!
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you that I have already got in touch with a member of the staff. Angela Dawson, the secretary of the school, was asked by Father Mark to do some shopping for me and she prepared my home for my arrival. I called her to thank her and she sounded very kind and welcoming.
Lucio, I hope I have not bored you with this long email, but you know that you are the only person in Italy I care for now. Thanks for going to the cemetery to visit my dad. Please, keep doing it because you know that Raffaella will forget about it very soon.
I will never thank you enough for your support and for this opportunity you have offered me. Thanks for helping me and my dad in the difficult months of his illness. I will keep in touch…
Love,
Miriam’
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After dinner, Miriam opened her laptop to read Italian newspapers online. Then she had a look at her emails and she found Father Lucio’s answer to her long message. The priest’s reply was shorter but full of affection and encouragement.
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‘Dear Miriam,
I am so glad you have had a pleasant flight and a serene time so far. God knows you deserve serenity and satisfaction after the months of your dad’s illness, his death and all the suffering that followed.
Don’t worry, you have always been a good knowledgeable teacher here in Italy and you will do a wonderful job wherever you go, I am sure. Mark will certainly be a great help and comfort for you. Trust him and his advice.
Keep praying, Miriam, because you are not alone and keep me informed about your life and your experiences. I am looking forward to receiving news from you. You can be sure that I will always remember you in my prayers and that I will visit your dad and take care of everything at the cemetery for you. May God bless you, Miriam.
Love Lucio’
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A tear rolled down Miriam’s cheek, Father Lucio’s words warmed her heart and made her feel loved.
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and then Add to home screen.