Mars 2025

The Williams family arrived sometime in the wee hours so we didn't meet them until before our pancake breakfast. Micah is the oldest of Hank & Andrea's four children; there are two younger brothers, Josiah age 14, Lucas age 11, and one 17-year-old and fashionable sister, Kedron. The family, the context, of our senior boy here at CPS. It was good to be together. 

The family spent time abroad in the late morning and afternoon, then returned for some rest before an evening out. The four of us and Riley visited the St. Michel flea market in the morning and did some grocery shopping before a late lunch. Riley headed out after that to meet the Toews boys on their way to Vermont for a ball game and the evening. 

It's March already, our month of lasts in Montreal. How is it that I've nearly completed a year of journaling here on this amateur website?

There are things that we likely have done for the last time without thinking about it much, but a bigger one took place in the evening: our last CE service here. 

It was a good Sunday together. We had devotions and breakfast around 8:15, a normal church service with Pat & Vanessa from Roxton and Colin & Denise from Alexandria participating. It was good to see Dmitri & Luba at church again after their Spain vacation. Emile, Louis, and the Indian gentleman were there as usual. A couple more people slipped in during the service, so altogether our group was a good size. After a savory dinner at the house, the Williams clan and Riley went off to visit St. Joseph's Oratory and some nearby points of interest, returning toward six and rushing to get ready for the evening. During their absence, Pat & Vanessa had stopped by so we could practice a song for the program and enjoy a little time together before we needed to get going. 

Riley's topic: "Come Unto Me and I Will Give You Rest." The program was like any other, with group songs, a poem, thoughts on the topic, and songs by all the youth at the end. I had to think how in the future, people will come and go at CPS, the youth groups will change over time, yet the tradition of filling the chapel to overflowing on the first Sunday evening of each month will continue. May they always be inspiring, as they have been.  

Then, a nice heavy snack to dig into and interesting conversations around the circles of adults and children formed downstairs, while the youth crammed into the living room upstairs. I sort of missed the vibe of the evening thanks to a sharp headache that persisted until I fell asleep back home. These Montreal C.E. evenings will always be a good memory.

As we fly through the remaining weeks of our time here, it seems like I blink and a handful of days are already behind. These last entries might be more like quick glances in a rear-view mirror. Some glances will be longer though.

Monday: the whole houseful of us crowded around the kitchen table for breakfast. I think that was the last meal all together as we were then. The Williams clan headed off to explore and go out to Roxton Falls for the evening, and Riley went his way for the day's activities. 

Tuesday: Riley and I left early for Welcome Hall Mission while the family spent another day sightseeing. One of their stops was the Atwater Marché, a nearly century-old market west of the downtown. They brought back a bright bouquet of yellow tulips to grace the table that evening and more than a week after. They stayed at CPS for the evening so Julian and Alec loved that. They really took to Lucas who seemed to enjoy spending time with them, reading stories and playing all kinds of games. Kedron arrived after her time abroad with some girls from Alexandria, shopping and whatnot. In the kitchen we rolled out and fried a pile of beavertails after supper. Still later we relaxed around the living room and sang a handful of French songs to boot. Julian and Alec cruised around the house until settling down at an unreasonable hour, once we finally got around to saying farewells to the folks. They were on their way to the airport very early the following morning. 

Thursday: Riley was in charge of the supper. It was a diversion from the usual exotic menus, and instead of following a recipe out of Half-Baked Harvest or one of those similar culinary compendiums, he found a recipe in the enduring Mennonite cookbook called Kitchen Treasures. On page 264, "Beef and Rice Crisp." His mom had made it a lot, he said. There's a lot more in it than ground beef, rice, mushroom soup, and buttery cornflakes layered in a dish, but that should give you an idea. 

Well, house mama harbored some big and secret misgivings upon hearing what Riley was concocting (she has ideas about those traditional Mennonite books) but I must say, I had zero misgivings. She confessed at the supper table that she'd been skeptical, upon trying out this layered casserole and finding it better than her expectations. She also thought it hilarious how I kept on taking helpings right up to the last like I just couldn't get enough. I said hey, this is the kind of food I grew up on! I found the recipe after supper and offered an audible thanks to Irene Isaac, whoever she may be or may have been, for her contribution to that classic collection.

Friday: A little shuffle was done on the metro singing schedule and that evening the Roxton Falls group joined us at Station Radisson for the occasion. The Steve Penner family all came along, including Steve's mom who has been staying with them a number of weeks. Marc & Gayle were even there, with Lara Burns and a friend from out west who had met up in Roxton to spend some time. Marc's were taking them out for supper to the blind restaurant somewhere in the city; they figured why not come join us, and they were a wonderful addition to the group. I think we were around two dozen gathered along the wall at an intersection of corridors right near the wickets. The singing always goes well in those tunnels. Most of the group gathered at the mission for supper after that. 

A few activities made this Saturday a memorable one. One last visit to the nearby Montreal Barbershop on the plaza along Viau, that favorite place of mine (ok, I've never tried another in this city) with those good old Italian folks cutting hair as they have for years; the room lined with tall mirrors, an espresso machine used daily, and more often than not the warm sound of jovial Italian conversation. (For more details check out the July 2 entry, si tu veux.) 

Julian, Alec, and I were ready for a fresh cut so Sabrina came along both to aid and to see what this place was like. It wasn't a super long wait before Oksana's chair was open for Julian to hop up on. Oksana did a fine job as usual, then set to work on Alec who was a bit more jumpy. Sam worked on my hair meanwhile, the clippers and scissors moving in quick, studied motions. There was a good bit to talk about, it seemed, for sure when I told him this was our last time here. He's cut a lot of CPS guys' hair over the years so he's familiar with us, and wanted to know who would be coming to replace us. I assured him I'd send the next papa over. 

Sam did a fine job and styled it at the end. "Even your wife is happy!" he said as I squinted at the mirror before putting on my glasses. She was, too; it's funny sometimes how a fresh cut makes her fall in love all over again with the males in her family. Julian and Alex were impatient to get their lollipop out of the jar, then thrilled when Sam handed them four or five more each. We wouldn't be coming back, after all. With farewells and best wishes exchanged with Sam and crew, and Au revoirs to Oksana, we were out the door. 

All of us drove out to Roxton Falls in the afternoon. We arranged with Marie-Josée to meet and visit a bonsai place together, simply named Les Bonsai. It's an unassuming place but all kinds of valuable wonders live in those greenhouses. A place like this is hard to describe, you should see it for yourself. The first greenhouse we stepped into, the main space, is best described as a small forest. How many hundreds of trees are in there? All those marvelous miniatures in shallow pots, some specimens quite large, and all of them a wonder to examine. Some trees looked like newbies and others like they'd been trained for decades. 

Looking at the tags on the trees I finally caught on that this was essentially a winter boardinghouse for bonsai. Marie-Josée talked with the proprietor a while and told me this was the only place in Quebec renting out greenhouse space for bonsai specifically. The trees' owners come from time to time and take care of their bonsai. Another Quebecoise was there working with hers while we were there. These trees that stay here year-round are moved outdoors in the summertime. Surrounded with the sweet dampness and all this living art, I felt my soul awaken. 

In another greenhouse were lots of seedlings and pre-bonsai, as well as a large tank with fish and a small coop of chickens along the wall. Up a well-worn stairway was suspended another partial level of growing things. In yet another greenhouse were even more. An adjoining room was lined with shelves holding scads of bonsai pots for sale. Higher up hung coils of lightweight training wire in different thicknesses. I inspected those shelves a while but didn't purchase any of those beauties in the end, not even a nice used one that was marked $5. I'm promising myself that we'll stop by on a future summer vacation, when I might have something more specific in mind; otherwise I really could get carried away and end up with a proper collection. 

It was after 4:00 which was closing time. We followed Marie-Josée a short way to Philippe & Starlyn Daigle's place where she parked her car and rode on with us southward to Mont Shefford. It was good to drive through the scenic landscape; a lot of forest, a beautiful mix of hardwoods, evergreens, and birches. We parked twenty minutes later at Parc Jean-Paul Forand on the eastern side of the mountain. (This is where we came last May for Marie-Josée's surprise birthday party on the 25th put on by a bunch of Roxton ladies. That day, Hank Dyck picked me up -- Sharon was involved with the party of course -- and after parking at a different place we had a nice long hike to the summit and a stunning view south to a distant lake and more mountains.) 

We bundled up a little and followed a meandering trail into the gorgeous hemlock woods, following a large stream mostly hidden but with open patches of dark water. We found the waterfall all right, but it too was hidden under ice and snow. One small window in the ice showed water rushing behind it, and when we held still we could hear it splashing. On we went up the well packed trail and had ourselves a good time. Micah and Riley had started off a different way from the parking lot and we met them later, halfway through our loop. We'll never forget that beautiful walk together, a golden time just as Marie-Josée was hoping to have before we leave Quebec. This park in winter was hardly  less magical than it had been in the summertime that memorable day. This is another of those places I promise myself we'll visit in the future. 

We headed back to Phil & Starlyn's by way of the nearby town where we stopped for gas and corn chips. We arrived at Phil's ahead of time for the supper plans. He was out in the small shop where he keeps his sawmill and was trying to figure something out with an electrical component. The shop is one end of a longer building that had sheltered cattle in the past. He poured a concrete floor, closed off the space, and insulated it good. A couple small heaters are mounted inside but he runs them just enough to keep the shop semi-comfortable. At that it was none too warm for him, he acted like. 

He showed us the machine a while, then turned out the lights and we headed indoors. "You don't like the winter too cold either?" I asked him.

"We aren't built very thick," he said. "The cold goes right through." He and I are alike that way, built slender. Phil is a true Quebecois, with Indigenous blood somewhere back in his lineage, evidenced by skin several shades darker than a lot of folks, dark hair and eyes.

Starlyn cooked up some fantastic chili and breadsticks for our supper. A lot of the time together around the table was spent listening to Phil share the "unabridged version" of his story. He had told me some, we wished to hear more, and through the busyness of the past year it just hadn't worked out to get together to hear it all.

"If you had been in Montreal twenty years ago, I might have cleaned your car windows for you." He grew up in a town southeast of Montreal. He left home with $50 and a squeegee, planning to hitchhike across Canada with a friend. They spent time in Montreal plying their squeegees for money, hanging out in bars, getting into drugs, living the punk life, mohawk and everything. He and others went from city to city until they reached Vancouver, his friend returning home somewhere along the way. It was a very rough life, and his quest for truth began.

Today he has a life he couldn't have imagined back then. It is an interesting tale. If you have the chance and a little time, ask him about it. 

Marie-Josée wasn't necessarily interested in talking about her own colorful life, but Phil had some questions for her so we heard some bits and pieces of her story over a dessert of ice cream and brownies. The boys had fun playing with the Daigle children, Luc, Lia, and Adélyn. So soon the good evening came to an end and we navigated homeward through the frosty night.

It was nice to have Keith & Karen Wedel and Kelsey & Julia Duerksen join us for the Sunday service. Nobody showed up from Alexandria but it worked out all the same. Keith chaired the main part of the service as he usually does when they come on second Sundays. This time he shared his message in French and Kelsey interpreted into English. 

Émile wasn't there which was unusual; time change and helping care for his infant daughter factored in. Nor were Dmitri & Luba. Akli was the only regular to show up and stay for lunch afterward. There was another visitor but he left after the service. So at our last potluck dinner there was plenty of food for our not so large group. It was pleasant though sitting with Kelsey's and hearing more about their vacation in Colombia last fall, among other fun topics. 

We picked up Chantal and Anna that afternoon on our way out to Alexandria for the C.E. service. It seemed like it had been a while but we couldn't quite figure why. We enjoyed a good program and catching up with some friends afterward, before heading to our friends Jordan & Emily Goossen's for a good time. Justin & Shera Unruh (Shera and Emily are sisters) were there as well. Time with those jolly folks is always fun. We stayed longer than we should have, then ran back to church where the youth were still having their social and picked up the rest of our load. We were home just before midnight.

If anything were to be said about this Monday, let it be about a junk redemption project organized by house mama. Just yesterday on the way home from church she spied the enormous and colorful pile out near the sidewalk along the nearby Rue Valéry, and after dinner she and Julian went for a walk to check it out. Arrangements were made and Monday morning she drove over there and loaded the Pilot up with quite an assortment of things, toys primarily but also sacks of clothing that these people were getting rid of. House mama couldn't abide the thought of it all going to the landfill. People could actually use this stuff. Why not take it to Welcome Collective?

It turned out a larger project than she expected and I know she could give a better report on it, so ask her sometime. She brought a bunch of stuff back and spent a lot of the morning spraying down and scrubbing all manner of toys in the main bathroom upstairs. A lot of it was colorful gaudy electronic stuff. Some of those electronic toys survived the cleaning, some didn't, and a couple others had died long ago, so we did some sorting here. It didn't take long for the house to acquire a certain staleness in the air, the way those things held on to an aura of cigarette smoke to some degree or another. There were a lot of women's clothes to wash too, and a stack grew down by the washer. Monday is laundry day so these extra things would have to wait. 

The boys enjoyed these new toys it seemed, though they went from one thing to the next and had a hard time sharing. The living room was a picture of confusion. We had fun with a stack of those interlocking foam tiles you can lay out on the floor, and set up small houses in the office with them. Those had been scrubbed too but something like foam will never truly come clean. 

The morning was appropriately cold but the sun was out. Daylight Saving Time sure makes late winter days feel different for sure. Laura at Welcome Hall was glad to feel the sunshine on her face again. "There's always a false spring, but we had that already. If we would've had one more week of clouds and snow, I'd be in the news. I would've done something terrible." There were plenty of volunteers around for a change so the market stayed well under control. 

Walking outdoors after the morning felt amazing, with that sunshine and significantly warmer air. A crisp wind blew at the railroad crossing but down the back alley in the direction of the metro station, all that packed ice and snow was certainly disintegrating. At the other end were the path goes down a deepening gash in the bank to the sidewalk it gets pretty slippery and careful steps are necessary. But winter is on its way out. Let the nights bring the trickling of meltwater to a halt but be sure it will soon resume. The sunshine is getting just too cheerful; it's hard not to feel that the iron spell of winter is broken. 

Back home there was more activity involving those reclaimed belongings. Lots of laundry went through the washer and dryer. One treasure Sabrina had found was a sack full of reusable shopping bags, a lot of which were like new. And that just goes to show that the whole idea of reusable shopping bags is only as green as the end user cares, because these folks apparently didn't. Run into Dollarama without any bags? No problem, they have scads of them there for you. Buy a few to tote your stuff home, toss them out after. The chaos of toys didn't seem to affect Julian and Alec too positively though they sort of enjoyed another day with them. But it was high time to pack all that clutter out. 

In the morning I got busy loading up all the toys in a contractor bag and taking it down to the Pilot, to cram in with all the other sacks of clothing and random things. The guys and Sabrina go to Welcome Collective on Wednesday so we planned to run this load over there together. The guys helped tote stuff up to the eighth floor of the building once we arrived, then went out to the box truck to join the driver for the morning's deliveries. 

This was also the last day of the winter clothing distribution. Last week Sabrina intended to ask Flavia if this could be her last day because of our leaving the city soon, so that worked out well. Sweet Flavia was sad about Sabrina leaving and as she was about to go on a trip to Honduras, this was the last time she'd see Sabrina. There were lots of hugs throughout that morning and of course a bunch of pictures to take together. Now today, along with all the stuff we'd brought with us, there came a large sheet pan bearing two dozen chocolate cream cheese cupcakes prepared the night before, as a farewell snack for everyone around there to enjoy.

I left with Julian and Alec shortly after. We did some running around of our own later; first to a municipal office near the library to pay a property tax, then to the library to refresh our stash, then out to that certain McDonald's for lunch and play time. Not all McDonald's restaurants have a play place which is a must with children but this one does, and it happens to be the one we stopped at on our way into the city last March, when we first came. 

The afternoon was slow at Welcome Collective for Sabrina so we headed straight there after that, said hi/goodbye to a couple people, then were out of there. She's glad it's over, although it was a worthwhile project to help with. Politics are always a topic among the other volunteers and you might correctly guess that anti-USA sentiments are ramping up nowadays. For sure with people like Anne. After one particular comment (probably the one that goes like "so you're going back to Pennsylvania, back to Trump"), Sabrina just told her hey, I grew up in the States, I've traveled all over the states, and it's just home for me after all. As always, the police cadets who were volunteering (and are invariably more sensible) agreed with that, while Anne didn't know what to say. I guarantee a lot of hot air blows around and if you come here from the States some of that hot air hits you no matter how you might try to avoid it. But nobody can argue with a declaration of what feels like home. 

It was nice to come back to a much less cluttered house, make supper, and have French class later. (We hadn't last night as Micah and Riley joined the Ensz's and Anna for a skating outing downtown.) After singing, a few new copies of the French songbook were brought out of our closet to sign and give to the guys. It's been our farewell gift to each one who has come through, but this time it'll be us leaving soon.

Right around two weeks after our arrival in the city last spring, most of the island was in the path of a total solar eclipse. Now right around two weeks before we leave, the entire continent gets in on a total lunar eclipse. It's interesting to think how our time in Montreal has been bookended by two celestial events; meaningless of course unless you like details of that sort. I do.

Occurring late into the night, the lunar was obviously less celebrated compared to the solar but I'm sure there were many watchers all the same. I hardly needed the alarm I set as I woke well before 2:30. Stepping out the front door I saw the mostly darkened moon, then moved to the back patio for a better vantage. The strip of backyards between the two rows of houses stay much darker than the street sides. Micah and Riley came up to check it out too. The top side of the moon seemed to remain brighter than the rest as time moved on. Was it because we were near the edge of totality? 

The guys presently returned downstairs and I set out on a walk. I know it was random but I felt to mark the occasion somehow. I stole along the sidewalks over to the nearest park and walked on through it to the other side where Boulevard Lavoisier runs. Then I headed down that sidewalk to the far corner, beginning a circuit around the silent woods. It was darker here. The red moon floated among branches overhead. The only sounds were my footsteps on the gritty sidewalk and the occasional wild revving out on Lacordaire somewhere. As I like to do on occasions like that, I had fun envisioning possibilities; like what if a door of one of these cars parked along the street suddenly opened? Or what if I turned down at the corner of the park, quick enough to see a figure step back into the the shadowy trees? It was wonderful. 

Well there was no prowler in sight when I turned the corner and started down the path that cuts diagonally through the park. I passed through the groups of evergreens and the entrance to the Caverne de St-Léonard (just a quick glance toward that pool of darkness). Up ahead was the park pavilion again. But then I wasn't alone, someone else was out for a walk, coming down past the ball diamond. We passed at the corner in the glare of the pavilion's lights, quite casually but no doubt each wondering what the other was up to at this hour. Maybe our reasons were the same, maybe not. I was home not long after and grabbed a couple more hours in bed. 

Up early, I and the guys left in the Pilot a little after 6:30. The moon was still up and super bright in the clear sky. First we made our way to the airport to pick up friends of Micah's from Bonners Ferry, ID, brothers named Tristan and Thomas Walker. Their flight landed around the same time as we parked in the garage by the terminal. With a little extra time we rode the elevator to the top of the parking garage, which was a perfect spot to watch planes taking off because they were going up practically over our heads. Between takeoffs we looked through windows into the depths of where work is ongoing for the future light rail station. The massive crane was active and interesting to watch. For a bit we climbed up on a short wall to look east toward Mont Royal, the Oratory, and more of the city backlit in a rosy sunrise.

We retrieved the friends and got back into the traffic on our way to Welcome Hall. I dropped of Micah, Tristan, and Thomas near the Mollo café and found a spot to park right along the street where Welcome Hall is. Riley and I walked in and soon were involved in the activities, the rest joining us a bit later. Thomas helped me with Station 7 for that shift. I let him take a turn at the window sliding stuff through to the people who came along. 

Léché Desserts was visited after that and I was thrilled to see my favorite doughnut in the showcase -- the lemon meringue. It's back for the season! I just had to have another of those in that charming place. We sat on some vintage couches to eat our doughnuts and before stepping out the door I paused for one more look around. When the next time will be? We all rode home in the Pilot again, had lunch, and a quiet afternoon resting up some, especially the travel-weary guys. 

Later it was time to go metro singing at Station Jean-Talon. Another musician was playing in the spot when we got to it, and in talking to him, Riley discovered that we had booked it for the 06:00-07:30 slot rather than the 18:00-19:30 slot. Up one level in that large station we found a second spot unoccupied. Sabrina and Alec hadn't come along so at that point it was us five guys and Julian. Darrel's were a bit late so we sang a handful of the English songs out of the book until they showed up. Not long after they arrived, along came another musician who wanted to play but hadn't booked the spot himself. He was easy with letting us sing there another half hour if we wanted so we did. 

But then he uncased his instrument and plugged it into his speaker. It was tall like an upright bass but there wasn't much of a body to it, because it was an electric one; just enough for holding those long strings to pluck. He turned the thing on and was tuning it while we sang. Later he tried to accompany us, bless his heart. I can't say he got very close. Sometimes he did find those random tones that corresponded with the chords of the songs we were singing but that seemed rare and usually reserved for the ending measures of those songs. Otherwise our singing seemed to work out and all manner of people were passing through the station so it was interesting. 

Back at the house, Sabrina served Indian butter chicken over rice and naan bread. That was a late night. 

While Micah and friends were gone for most of the day sightseeing, the four of us went over to Darrel's for a light lunch with Anu & Marika's family. Anu David, a medical scientist, is from India and his wife is from Germany, and they have five children. Up until Regan & Caitlin had left Montreal last fall, the family had been coming to church regularly, though it was a bit of a trek for them as they live in Laval. Well they found a church nearer them to attend so we hadn't seen them since, and so they wanted to get together before our turn came to leave the city. Riley came with us for lunch before going his way to meet the other guys later. 

Marika had brought a quiche, Sabrina brought some pulled pork and rice from home, and Natalie made a simple fruit salad so that was our lunch. Coffee and really good chai followed after. It was an interesting time learning more about the world of medical research and related stories that Anu had to tell. The ladies enjoyed catching up meanwhile and the children passed the time drawing and coloring. (The calm, well-behaved Davids children at least. Our boys and Ariella were occupied with that for a while too but left the activity at times for something more boisterous as they commonly will. And regardless of the occasion, at some point Alec zips over to the front of the chapel, drags a chair to the pulpit, gives a good puff on the pitch pipe, and launches into random solos. Those solos are always peppered with pauses for re-establishing the pitch.)

We returned to the house where Marie-Josée's car was parked out front. She was off on a walk somewhere else. Earlier in the day she had called to see if she might spend the latter part of the day and a night here with us, as she had been in contact with a lady who lives in Notre-Dame-de-l'Île-Perrot. (This is a smaller island between Montreal island's westernmost point and the mainland, connected to both by Autoroute 20.) This lady had a Java finch for sale and Marie-Josée wanted to see it, maybe buy it if the price was right. A visit couldn't be made though until Sunday afternoon so I planned to accompany her then. She heard back later on from that lady who said she could meet up if Marie-Josée would be prepared to buy the finch for $200. Well that didn't suit Marie-Josée, who would rather see a bird before making a decision, so she canceled the plan. She didn't seem to disappointed though, saying the bird was a good excuse for her to come to the city and spend a little more time with us. So she came back from her walk and we spent the rest of the day at home. She kindly offered that Sabrina and I could go out on a little date while she stayed at the house with Julian and Alec, but we decided against it as the boys were quite some wild bambinos that evening.

♦ ♦ ♦

Marie-Josée stayed the night and for church and dinner on Sunday. We filled our dining table to the max with the addition of Drake & Shanay Hodgson from Alexandria who had come for the service too. Thierry & Chandra Andries from Roxton were at church and they took Darrel's out for lunch afterward. Marie-Josée left for home in the afternoon. The evening C.E. program in Roxton Falls had been postponed on account of all the folks involved in maple sugaring who wouldn't be there. Sabrina decided to stay home with Julian and Alec so they could prioritize getting to bed on time (we all were so far behind sleep really) but I still went out with Riley, Micah, Tristan, and Thomas for the volunteer service that would convene for whoever would show up. We picked up Anna on the way. 

It was the smallest gathering I've seen in that church house I'd say. Just two benches on both sides of the house were filled once we reshuffled to fill the front ones as Amos Zwygart's suggestion after his opening. Those aren't long benches either, remember. Being my last time out there for a service, it was a little unfortunate that more hadn't come, but it was worthwhile all the same. There was some time for a couple special numbers which included a song our guys got around. 

Then the entire assembly of around two dozen gathered on the rostrum to sing a while out of two different Cast Thy Bread books, except for Marge who stayed in the bench holding Fritz & Lynette's infant until Lynette switched with her. Amos asked if I'd bring the closing so I had an impromptu speech and asked if we all could sing just one more song, #296 out of that legendary round-note hymnal Célébrons Dieu: "Oh! prends mon âme." A gorgeous minor key anthem. Two dozen voices put out a marvelous, heartfelt volume and I wish I could have been a silent listener in the back for the duration, to appreciate it more. The song will forever be a favorite of mine.

We didn't hang around long after the service. A couple of the guys rode with me and a couple others rode with some friends off to Steve & Shandele Penner's, 27 kilometers to the south. We drove through a rainstorm and out on the gravel roads near the Penner territory, it was a brief deja-vu. I remembered the opening lines of an entry last April (titled "Penner's Woods"): Somewhere out in the wooded countryside east of the city, a paved road turns to gravel and a Honda Pilot slows a bit, splashing through scattered potholes, wipers swishing the rain. That evening, they had just finished up their last sugaring day, and now they were in the middle of the season. 

So we dropped by to see the maple sugaring in action. Theirs is a large-scale operation, with somewhere around 30,000 taps drawing sap throughout the sprawling forests. Their sugar shack adjoins the house. In the center sits the massive propane-fired boiler with a few large chimneys going up through the vaulted ceiling, looking like a shiny steel locomotive, rushing and rumbling. Jackson and Thomas Penner were around right then tending the process. Out a pipe in the side, below the one end of the boiler where the syrup flows through the finishing pans as it boils, came the piping-hot syrup into a steel vat on wheels. Jackson fetched tiny glass sample jars and caught for us to sip. Wow, that was a good vibe. My sampling didn't stop with one vial either during our visit. 

The syrup is murky when it comes out of the boiler. Diatomaceous earth is stirred in before the liquid is pumped through a filter of many layers, and it helps to bind the minerals in the syrup to result in the clear, golden nectar we know and love. Steve was around for a while too, and I watched in a smaller room as he got the reverse osmosis system up and going again. The sap passes through here first of all to remove a large percentage of water before it continues to the boiler. 

A few things appeared on the counter to snack on -- cheese curds, crackers, summer sausage, all to wash down with fresh maple syrup. Okay, there was a pitcher of water after all, but the snack did pair well with the fresh syrup! At my request, Steve disappeared into a small room to bring out three cases of syrup of the Érablière Idéale reserve. One will stay at CPS, two will ride with us to Pennsylvania. The hour was late when finally the Pilot was cruising back to the city.

Micah, Tristan, and Thomas were off for another day of touring after breakfast while Riley went about his usual Monday activities. The three joined Riley volunteering at the soup kitchen in the evening. I spent a few hours abroad with Julian, going a few places including Old Port and collecting a couple things I was after before our departure. 

♦ ♦ ♦

Riley and I left for Welcome Hall as usual Tuesday morning. It was my last Tuesday volunteering there. I was stationed at window 7 again and Laura was next to me, joined by another volunteer who's in the city for a week. It's one of those volunteer groups that Cal & Chrissy Krahn organize and this time the young people were from Dawson Creek, BC, a city 56 kilometers southeast of Taylor, which is Riley's hometown. Halfway through the market shift, the two volunteers of that group switched out with a couple others who were occupied with food sorting in the back. Both who joined Laura at station 6 were put to work doing the handout themselves, getting to interact with the people who came through the line. 

Laura kept stuff filled up and had a lot of extra time to talk as the morning seemed slow. Her question for the day: If you could go anywhere in the world, what place would you choose to visit? So we talked about destinations on our bucket lists. I also learned more about her background. Her family moved to Canada from Estonia when she was three years old. This country borders Russia on the east, Latvia on the south, and north across some water lies Finland. Her first language was Estonian which is similar to Finnish. After moving to Canada, her parents prioritized English and French immersion for her so the language of her old country has largely faded to the background, familiar yet distant. While Laura has been living in Montreal doing volunteer and outreach work, she visits her family in Ontario from time to time. Cal & Chrissy are her adopted family here in the city. 

I mentioned an interest in visiting places like the British Isles as Sabrina has some ancestral connections there, discovered through some research. She laughed when I mentioned the DNA test. "If I took one of those it would tell me everything I already know," she said. "My ancestry has been in Estonia as long as anyone can see. Stubborn people, like I am, and tall."

After the shift while I was still wiping down my coolers, Chrissy and Laura came around to talk a little one last time. Then best wishes and goodbye hugs were exchanged, and that's the last I'll be seeing of them unless our paths cross again in the future as I hope they do. They've become like family to me too. I'll not forget those good chats we often enjoyed. 

I won't be seeing Robert again either, he was a lot of fun to work with, sensible and always friendly. Brian too, he of the sharp wit and cheerful disposition. I loved the spice he added to any conversation, especially when it was a conversation with Alain and Alain would be saying random or weird things like he would at times. I said goodbye to Brian back at the volunteer room before leaving. "I'll miss your sense of humor," he told me. 

"Well -- it's more like I'll be missing yours," I contradicted.

"At least you always reacted!"

Then, out to the sunny sidewalk, a freight train to wait on, then across to the back alley which has rapidly reappeared from under all that snow and ice. 

Toward the end of the afternoon I put the boys in the van, and together with Micah we ferried the Walker brothers to the airport. That's the last run I'll be making there, I believe, and I can't say I felt any sadness about that. Not when creeping along in heavy traffic is a major factor on most of those trips. Julian and Alec hadn't often come with me so it was a novelty. Alec was really disappointed that we all weren't going into the terminal to take a plane ride somewhere. 

♦ ♦ ♦

Hélène knocked on the door shortly after 10:00 Wednesday morning to say that her car wouldn't start, like she expected. I was just about to head over there with the van to jumpstart it as we had planned. But in the end, no matter how many minutes I sat revving the Honda nor how many times she turned the key in her car, the engine never took off. We were able to get the engine cranking for a long moment at best and decided it must not be entirely the battery's fault. She said she'd call CAA as she pays for their services so may as well use them! I suppose she won't keep the car much longer as she doesn't use it much and her next trip to Japan will last five or six months this next time around. Owning a car is more of a bother than an advantage anymore. 

Later when I was outdoors I saw her as she was heading off to the bus stop, and she said the tech wasn't able to start the car either. It'll need to be towed to a shop for resuscitation. I wish good luck to whoever goes to extract the car from the garage -- it's in there pretty snug. Maybe they'll have an easier time pulling it out than I had backing it in last fall. There is no room to spare. 

We visited the botanical gardens over the midday, something we hadn't done since last fall. Over the winter they open the gates for anyone to come snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, or just strolling through what parts of the gardens they kept open. The boys rode on the stroller. The wide, paved drive that makes a big circle around the themed gardens and goes out through the arboretum was nice and bare but not the smaller gravel trails into those gardens. What was left of the packed down snow was simple enough to navigate as we made our way into the Chinese gardens and out through the First Nations woods. At a park bench in a sunny spot by a pond we stopped and had a small lunch of pulled pork tacos. After that we made another loop and traversed some really squishy trails that I would have avoided with the stroller had I known. The boys rode high and dry so that was good, but progress required careful steps across all that sog and through the broad, shallow puddles. Did we see much, overall? Not really. Just a portion of the gardens bare of their former and future glory.

If the eve of the spring equinox calls for any kind of celebration, I'd say we had an appropriate one: a sugar shack supper out at Marc & Gayle's, in their new shack. It seemed like a long drive out and we were glad to arrive. Nobody was at the house, and over at the sugar shack Marc stood in the glow of the small corner porch waving us on over. The Pilot doesn't have all wheel drive but it does have a setting for driving through mud, which I put to use for the first time taking the dirt lane from the barns out to where the charming shack stands. Inside the door in what will be the kitchen Marie-Josée was turning pancakes on a griddle. Gayle was busy with supper preparation as well. 

The main part of the shack overflowed with the light sweetness of sap boiling in a wood-fired boiler much smaller and quieter than what we had seen at the Penner's. Slab wood of no particular kind burned in the furnace, and fans and airflow system had it burning pretty hot. Windows in one wall and the overhead door on the opposite side were open to a steady breeze from outdoors. Sap flows from 2,700 taps spread across ten acres into a storage tank outside the shack. It's pumped through a reverse osmosis system on its way to the boiler. In a season, they'll fill their fifteen-barrel syrup quota. 

There were regular and sourdough pancakes to splash warm syrup over, along with a frozen peach and strawberry mélange, fried apples, baked beans, and sliced pork with a white barbecue sauce. Tell you what, we ate good and filled ourselves right up. Marc decided they could can a batch of fresh syrup so he opened a huge box full of empty cans and a sleeve of lids. Did you know the bottom of a new can is the open end? I didn't either. Marc put on a glove and held an empty can while Jeremy filled it from a small hose attached to a filter where the fresh syrup was pumped through. Usually it's best to can the syrup pretty hot so it has a good seal upon cooling. This syrup wasn't quite as hot but no matter, this batch could be used sooner. When the can was full, Marc put a lid on top and placed the can on a small can sealer machine which crimped the lid onto the can and trims off the excess, the removed the can and plopped it upright on the countertop. I filled a few after that, then Julian did a couple cans and Alec took a turn. Never in my life had I canned fresh syrup in a sugar shack. What fun it was! 

More goodbyes before leaving, to Marc & Gayle and their boys who have become such good friends, and of course Marie-Josée who has been and remains grand-mère to us. We didn't leave empty-handed either -- a warm case of fresh maple syrup came along home. On our way we stopped by Kevin & Joan's where our Ford Edge had spent most of the winter (the guys drove it back to the city for us) and then to Hugues & Amy's to see their two and a half week old son Etienne and pick up some hard wheat and haskap jam. 

It was a Friday of lasts. The morning dawned crisp and the day had the feel of one of those in October, with its clear sky. The 432 express bus arrived at Lacordaire/Lafourcade just minutes after we rounded the last corner. There were some empty seats toward the back and I took one beside the abuelita who was sitting in her customary spot for the morning ride down the boulevard. And as usual (meaning nearly every morning I've ridden on the same bus) she was on a phone call with her earbuds in, sending a soft twitter of Spanish to a loved one far away. Seems like she does most of the talking. I still wonder how someone can have so much to say. There are quite a few other people who are regulars on that particular bus and it's pretty well the only time our lives cross paths; co-riders on the morning express, headed different places.  

My final shift at Welcome Hall was enjoyable and ordinary. Adriana stepped in a bit before 9:00 to chat a bit and hand me a small box and a farewell letter. Inside the box was a crème brûlée from a nearby pâtisserie named Un Instant en Provence. (I consumed it later in the morning and found it quite satisfying. I'm thinking that's the first time I've had that French specialty, what's more.) Adriana was around for the pre-9:00 announcements by Jérémie which included letting everyone know that it was my last time. I had a hunch he would be giving me some time for a little speech so I recited a small on in French that I'd been rehearsing in my head. It didn't come flying out of my mouth as smoothly as a Quebecois but they understood all right. 

"C'était mon grand plaisir de travailler ici. J'ai passé beaucoup de bons moments ensemble avec vous. Vous allez me manquer. Meilleurs voeux de bonheur à vous tous. Merci!"

Jérémy repeated his speech in English as usual and wondered if I wanted to say my part again but I said "non, c'est bon." Soon everyone turned to their tasks as the lines of clients started coming through. One last hug with Adriana and she left the floor. Nowadays she works at a building across the street corner from Welcome Hall which is the women's shelter. 

The morning was lower key but steady overall. My mélange of food to give out at Station 7 consisted of cauliflower, hummus, small yogurt drinks, corndogs, and frozen meat. Many regulars came through the line and occasionally I thought, "have a good life," after I wished them a good day for the last time. A couple of the staff ladies stopped by while passing through the main floor, to talk a little and say goodbye, people I won't forget for a long time. There's Milena Perdomo, another cheerful Spanish woman, whose face is always ready to flash a beautiful smile. There's Jen Nicholls, the young woman from Australia with sandy hair and warm blue eyes, always friendly and altruistic. Later in the morning another Spanish worker whose name I don't remember came by. I hadn't seen her for a while it seemed. "The last time I saw you was at the Christmas event," she said, during our conversation after I told her it was my last day. I don't think she speaks any English so it was fun again to think how we were using French as the bridge language between our native tongues. Milena reappeared later bearing one of those Italian cakes, a panettone in a box for carrying, as a farewell gift. 

I was surprised to see Chrissy pop in at the very end while we were busy cleaning things up. I knew she would be coming for the afternoon to volunteer with some of the group she and her husband are hosting this week. She had a few things for me to take home though so she'd decided to come early. There were a couple small Canadian flags for the boys, some candy for them from Cal, and a small gift for Sabrina. Riley and Micah waited around while I got my things and said goodbye to various others like Alain, Robert, and that older lady who always is at station 2A (her name I also forget). Every single morning when we volunteered together she had a cheerful "Ça va bien?" in the good Quebecois fashion and I'd always say yes and return the question. Sometimes to that she would answer, "Toujours!" Always! And I never doubted it. 

The three of us walked down the increasingly trendy Rue Notre Dame to F&F Pizza for lunch after that. A lot of people were out walking it seemed and many were fashionably dressed. There was one young woman in heels, a black fur coat, and big sunglasses who was prancing along towards us like a runway model, and right as she passed among us it was a bit crowded on the sidewalk and Riley had to turn sideways. He simply did a 360 as she swept past and we kept walking, sharing a good laugh. I've probably raved about F&F Pizza enough over the past year you probably remember enough about it by now so I won't go into further detail. We found seats by the big roll-up window and I ordered my favorite, a Carbonara with a Brio to drink. 

Metro singing that evening was a special one because we'd invited the Vermont youth group to join us in Station Square Victoria. That's the one where we sing in the domed room at an intersection of corridors, a spot so stellar and unmatched for a cappella harmony. As they had a three-hour drive, we decided to begin at 6:30 rather than 6:00 but I forgot that altogether when the time came for us to head out. We arrived in that station well ahead of time and figured they might not be here yet. While I reloaded some visitor passes at the kiosk, Riley and Micah hiked off in a different direction. Sabrina had stayed at home to catch up on things and bake some cornbread and Alec stayed home too, catching up on sleep. 

Julian and I turned to walk the long corridor toward the domed room and soon saw that the youth were indeed there already. And wait, they weren't just standing around, they were already singing! The eight of them were gathered in the middle between those two curving stone benches, looking off a few phones to sing. Three Warkentin boys, Shelby, Devon, Brandon; three Trammel boys, the twins Tylen and Dustin, and Alec; and the two teachers who are Madelyn Renno from Belleville, PA and Laura Schultz from Fredonia, KS. A little later, Trevor & Mandy Koehn appeared in the room, and we stood near the center with the youth and sang along to the beautiful chorus of a song. 

"The mountain will tell you that you can't make it over;

It will try to convince you that it's way too high.

Though you feel defeated, know that God keeps His promise,

So you tell the mountain just how big your God is."

And in case I forget to mention it later, let me now -- that small group sings remarkably well. It wasn't just the acoustics, although that took the harmony to another level; I've heard and appreciated those smooth, rich voices before. I was so glad we had booked this spot to sing with them. 

Our guys soon appeared with the metro singing suitcase so we set up and were on a roll by 6:30. We must have hit all the English options in that book over the next hour but we mixed in a lot of French ones, and our guests were up to the task and did very well with those. Darrel's and then Anna showed up partway through so that helped out. Later he suggested half of our group should stand directly opposite the circular room so we could hear each other better and would you know, we really did hear each other much better! We sang together across the room without any trouble. It made for a neat surprise for a lot of the people who passed through there. They'd see one part of the group as they entered, and then the other. It's like you could see the question marks in their faces and then the light going on as they looked from side to side, discovering we really were singing together. 

Toward the last, some middle-aged parents with two teen boys stopped by the group opposite from us and the mom stood beside one of the girls to look off her book. I think we were singing Glory Gates then, and she joined right in with an excellent soprano. The younger of the boys shared a book with one of the guys in that group and sang along. At the end of that song they helped us sing Amazing Grace yet and it was a marvelous finale. Turns out this family lives in Colorado and was here in Montreal on vacation. The mom had grown up in some kind of Mennonite church in northern Kansas so of course our singing and songs were familiar to her. A few of us talked with them before moving on from there. 

We gathered at the mission for a warm supper of red beans & rice, corn bread, and potato salad and had a fun, joyful time. Before too late the visitors headed out for their long drive back to their mountains. 

Our Saturday started up none too early. We reorganized things after the rug washing project of the previous afternoon and late night which consisted of cleaning the living room rug, the stairway, and all the folding chairs. For something different for our traditional eating-out we got on the road, picked up Anna after a while, then drove downtown in search of the café named Maman. This company has forty-some locations, most of them along the Middle Atlantic coast, with a few down in Florida and a couple in Canada. 

We arrived at the busy café towards 11:00 and found there was no room for us. Maybe if we had made a reservation for our size of group, it might have worked, but no chance today. Sabrina was especially disappointed as it's a favorite place of hers and she wanted to show us all the place. Well we saw it at least, then turned to go. The next idea was Crew Collective in Old Montreal, less than a mile away. Parking was the only issue but I ended up in a paid lot pretty close by. This café is always intriguing to visit because it's housed in the main lobby of the century-old Royal Bank of Canada building, a showcase of soaring arches and domes, richly detailed ceiling, and stone staircases. So we spent some time around a table consuming what was by then an early lunch. We explored a little more of the building before exiting through the well-worn brass revolving doors. 

Rue Saint-Pierre runs along one side of that tower. We followed that downhill to Rue St. Paul where the Olive & Gourmando boutique is and browsed a few minutes. Returning up the sidewalk, we stepped into the charming bookstore Librairie Bertrand. Then back to the parking lot up the street and we picked up the guys at the square by the basilica, Place d'Armes. A lot of people were out enjoying the day and tourist season is already well underway. I'm not sure how many tourist groups I saw in the small portion of the old city that we visited. 

By the time we came home, chilly clouds had slid over the sky and gone was the bright spring morning vibe. The guys did a good deep clean on the van, using the rug washer on the floor mats and interior before I ran the machine back to Home Depot. Sabrina fashioned an early supper of hot burritos and matcha shakes. The guys left for the evening while I was out and about with Alec getting a few groceries. It became very windy and a snow shower came through, leaving enough across the ground to turn it white until the next morning.

♦ ♦ ♦

Sunday was graced with beautiful sunshine but also a sharp wind. We gathered at church for a couple hours of worship with Alex & Adrianna Penner from Roxton and Jeremy & Brittany Isaac from Alexandria. It was a pleasant time with those good folks. A few regulars came too, like Dmitri & Luba and their daughter Anna, Akli, Louis, Emile (who is currently in doctrine classes), and another man who has started attending. The guys and Anna sang a trio after Sunday school. Jeremy and I shared some inspirations while Alex did the interpreting, and we closed with a couple more songs. 

Sabrina invited Brittany to come to CPS for dinner and unknown to them, Darrel had invited Jeremy to stay there with them for dinner, and in the end they stayed with Darrel's. Alex's had their own plans, a good pizza restaurant to go dine in, so it was just the six of us around the table to devour our crock pot roast and salad. The little boys helped me brew some green tea to which we added some blueberry tea bags for a fresh twist in our iced tea. 

The clarity of the evening atmosphere made it a beautiful drive out to Roxton for the youth meeting at Marc & Gayle's. Distant mountains showed up clearer than usual in the golden evening light and there was a perfect rosy sunset to end the daylight hours. It was just the guys, Anna, and I headed there for the evening and it was a worthwhile time. We were the first to arrive at the Toews home and before others got there, we had some time to sing with Marc and his boys. Or "drop some good bars," as they say. Gary & Chelsea showed up and when everyone had gathered, there was a bit of time spent together around the living room discussing a topic, followed by some things of business to figure out. Gayle had a good snack ready pronto and so the social continued. Towards ten we started homeward -- my last late-night trek of this sort. 

The focus on Tuesday for Sabrina was cleaning out the fridges and freezers. She had the house to herself for a good three hours while I took Julian and Alec on a special outing. First we parked at the Crémazie metro station, then rode twelve stops down the orange line to Bonaventure, the access to Montreal's grand central station, the Gare Centrale. Wikipedia says this is the second-busiest train station in Canada, after Toronto's Union Station. This station is also the one end of the current system of the Réseau express métropolitain (REM), an automated light rail that travels across the river to the south shore via the Champlain Bridge. 

I'd never taken a ride on this modern trolley so now was the time. We followed signs from the metro station, purchased the relevant fare for this ride, and were on the platform just a couple minutes before it showed up and doors opened with a nice harmonic chord. We were at the very back. These things are driverless so each end has a large window. I sat the boys up by the window and off we went, out and away from the downtown, across a canal, railyards, highways, and up onto the Champlain Bridge. So smoothly we rolled along. The rail runs along the center of the bridge with highway on both sides. The boys had fun waving to random drivers on the rode who were often traveling the same speed as we were. In spite of low clouds and mixed precipitation at times, the views of the city and the ride across the river were well worth the time, plus the boys loved every minute. We stayed put at the terminus as the trolley moved away from the last station, then reversed direction after a couple minutes and switched tracks. Now we were at the front window for the ride back. 

Back in the Gare Central we found a couple small hot chocolates to share before finding our way back to the metro. (I got a bit turned around in the station and couldn't figure out which direction to take, so for the first time ever I got to use one of those tourist-needing-help lines you learn in any French course: "Où est le métro ?")

Around 6:30 we pulled in at the mission for supper. Micah and Riley had been out with Darrel for the afternoon as usual and they helped make supper as well, for a special farewell occasion for us. There were ribs, sausages, sweet potatoes, asparagus spears with cheese, and croissants hot from the oven. We'd be going out for dessert, they said. Where to? The guys would be taking us downtown to a destination unnamed.

I guess I'm not a super suspicious sort so I wasn't thinking everything through too much, but looking back afterward there were many things that made sense. Like -- why exactly did the guys want to head out earlier than the rest of us? And why did Darrel suggest we could leave around 8:00, then later saying we could leave around 8:30? At that point I was thinking oh boy, it's going to be a late night going downtown and all. What's more I only had a light jacket with me while the rest had warmer coats. It would be a cold one. 

And so the ladies kept busy cleaning up the supper while Darrel and I hung out in the living room, monitoring the children's play. Killing time, that's all we were doing. I didn't give much thought to Darrel's random interest in a big Uline catalog and his comments on the different things he was looking at; after all, I flip through those from time to time and order stuff that I use at my job. I didn't give much thought either to how his mind seemed to be frequently elsewhere. 8:30 came and we finally got around to loading up in our vans and driving off to meet the guys at Station Crémazie. 

The guys weren't in the station, mysteriously, not even down on the platform. It was suggested we walk down to the end of the platform and Natalie said something like "Yeah Darrel likes to ride at the back of the metro." Hey, each to his own way. We stood peering down the tunnel and soon a train came rushing down the track and shot past us in a blur, slowing to a stop. And miracle of miracles! In front of our eyes in the back of the train were Micah and Riley, a few foil balloons floating in the air, and a tiny square table set up in the middle of the space. They clapped and laughed as we stepped into the middle of this incredible surprise. 

No, it had never crossed my mind since last Friday evening when this very scenario had been brainstormed as we and Darrel's rode back together after metro singing. Wouldn't it be cool to have a party back here? someone had said. We could have this whole space to ourselves. Everyone agreed that it would be great fun. Well there was more behind that conversation and secret plans were made, and now at the culmination of the plot, the crafty guys had ridden up the line one station to wait until the word from Darrel to ride back down to where we were, quickly setting up the party on the way.

Down the orange line we went as a box was opened on the table to reveal a nice little vanilla layer cake topped with strawberries. Micah cut pieces for everyone. Chocolate milk and small cups materialized from the voluminous bag on the floor and drink was passed around. Julian and Alec were particularly delighted with the balloons. There were four of them: a red star, a gold heart, a big one that said "Merci pour tous vos efforts," and a wedding rings one that said "I Do" on the diamond. I was about to ask Riley how that one fit into the narrative when he said it was on sale at Canadian Tire so they decided to get one of those too. Bless their hearts. 

People came and went as we continued station to station, and if any were about to step in the last door where our party was happening, they turned to enter a different one, often with amused expressions. We weren't sure if we should get off before Berri-UQAM as there would be many more people waiting there but that was no problem in the end. By that point of the ride most everyone's cake had disappeared and things had vanished back into the voluminous bag, so one might have thought this jolly group was on our their to a party, rather than that this was the party. A few splashes of chocolate milk on the floor might have given it away.

It certainly was a "moving party" like Darrel had said, in both senses of the phrase; the party for our moving back to Pennsylvania was also moving along underground quite comfortably. What a time that was! And no agent stepped on to tell us our activity was against STM policy. We didn't get off until we hit Snowdon, the one end of the blue line which we rode up to Jean Talon, completing the metro system loop. Then it was just two stops up the orange line to Crémazie, and so ended that legendary farewell. 

Even though there was an awful lot to accomplish on this fateful day, we set the table for seven and reheated the remaining chili from last evening to share with Dmitri & Luba and Anna who came for lunch. They had such high hopes of doing something with us yet before we go home that we said yes they sure could come over and spend a little time. Luba brought things for a salad and quick prepared it to go with the chili, and we had a good time together as always. Anna is so much fun! We got them to write in our leather and handmade paper book that we're using for a guest book as well as a scrapbook. 

When Anna took her turn she filled half the page with a drawing of some iconic buildings of Montreal, looking off an image found online. What an artist she is. We urged her to take the book along home and fill up a couple other pages with drawings and she was delighted for that commission. 

Luba brought out a layered cake with apple filling spread between the layers, so we had that for dessert as well as some dark chocolate stars and squares from my third and final chocolate making yesterday. I had roasted the remainder of the bag of cacao nibs, then transferred them to the new blender for the next step. This time around I used powdered sugar rather than granulated, resulting in the smoothest chocolat noir I have created yet. I probably won't get it much finer with this process, using a blender as I have been; maybe someday I'll invest in a wet grinder to do it right. They loved the chocolate and those stars and squares disappeared quickly among us all. 

Things were cleaned up and they soon left. We kept busy all the afternoon and into the evening, gathering all our belongings, packing up suitcases, boxes, and bags, and stacking things into the Edge. It was handy to have the guys making supper as is their task on Thursdays. Riley aided Micah with his menu of some very savory carne asada tacos. There was plenty of horchata to drink, which I had started early in the morning (the soaking of the rice, almonds, and cinnamon sticks) and finally found some time to finish in the afternoon. 

I had been tracking the progress of the Goossen family on the last leg of their journey, but their live location ended after they got onto the Montreal island so there was no telling when they would show up. We saw their big shiny Expedition park out front right on 8:00 p.m. and soon we were welcoming them in the door. Micah and Riley had made themselves scarce well by then and ran off to church at Darrel's request, as Darrel was going to be meeting someone there at church for a visit that evening and wished to have the guys present for that. Kenton & Carla with their four children (Maddox, Zander, Hattie, and Eden) came in and made themselves at home. 

Sabrina and I kept super busy after that, mainly cleaning bathrooms and floors, finalizing our pile of stuff in the entryway. We didn't take it all with us when we left for the night; there was simply too much. It was looking suspiciously like the amount of stuff that we had to cram into the Edge when we came a year ago. We hoped it wasn't as we'd sent a bunch of stuff home at Christmas, but still. I guess the final packing will tell!

So we said goodnight and made our way out of the neighborhood, down the island a little, and across the iconic Jacques Cartier bridge, lit up in a muted blue. From that bridge you get a really good view of the Old Port and the downtown every time. Down on the south shore we turned a few corners into the Longueuil suburbs and soon pulled up the an apartment we'd rented for the next four nights. It's the ground level of a two-story building that looks like it has six apartments of about the same size. Small, but tidy and just what we need. 

I stood a while out by the front door and tried in vain to open the little lock box hanging nearby, while the security camera by the door kept saying, "click, click, click" whenever I moved into view. I guarantee it took a hundred pictures of me puzzling over that cold little mechanism that just wouldn't respond to the code I was lining up on the number dials. I had the sense eventually to open the Booking.com app and there was indeed an unread message for me, giving me the code for the box. I guess a PIN code mentioned earlier in an email was for something else entirely. 6744 and the box opened easy as anything. We came in and soon had belongings strewn all over the place. It was good to finally settle in and get some rest.

Friday was a beautiful day and maybe a touch milder in this string of cold ones. The morning wasn't so leisure as there were deadlines throughout the day, so we got on the road and arrived at CPS around 9:15. And just like that, with most of our stuff out of there and the Goossen family settling in, it didn't feel like our home anymore. 

I was busy with Kenton from there on pretty much. There was just so much to go over, it seemed. Then we jumped into the Honda with Maddox, the 10-year-old, and drove to park at Crémazie. From there we took the metro to Station Guy Concordia. Right beside the one entrance to this station is the office building where we found the EBM (Entraide Bénévole Métro) office on the seventh floor. Rhiana, the volunteer coordinator, welcomed us in and we sat together for a time while she gave Kenton an overview of the organization and what the volunteers do. (This is the organization through which the CPS boys go visit two elderly folks each on Monday afternoons.) 

After that meeting, we walked a few blocks and around a corner and stepped into the aromatic warmth of Café Myriade, a favorite place of mine that I've taken the new guys to after accompanying them to their EBM orientations. We got some drinks to go and retreated underground, to ride the metro back to the station where we'd parked. We had a little time yet so we ran over to Welcome Collective which isn't far away. Flavia was glad to see us and meet Kenton. Charles wasn't in, he'd just gone on vacation. Then we ran home for a late lunch eaten a little hastily because of another appointment. The ladies had been at home with the children all this while, who had fun playing together indoors and out and snacking periodically.

At 2:00, Kenton & Carla and I were at our nearest Bank of Montreal branch for the changing of signatories on the CPS account. Johnathan Rinaldi was super friendly and knowledgeable so it was an enjoyable hour. We walked out of there after Kenton withdrew cash for allowances for the next month, and it was a relief to me to have the appointments over for the day. 

There were a couple hours at the house after that in which we loaded a dismaying amount of more belongings into the Edge. (How will we ever fit it all in?) Then off we went again, all of us this time. Me and mine jumped in the Edge and drove to Station Cadillac to ride down the green line, while the rest, the new CPS family, piled into the Honda Pilot (good thing it's an 8-passenger) and drove to Crémazie. They were down to Station Place des Arts before we. Only Darrel's were there yet besides them. Place des Arts seems to be the premium singing spot in all the metro system. As it was other times, I needed to be up at 6:00 a.m. the Friday morning a week ago, to grab the time slot when the window for reservations opened. (And I was successful, but within five minutes, three other spots were taken -- these musiciens du metro are certainly on their game.)

We started singing and were joined not long after by the Alexandria group, though not all at once, so from time to time our crowd grew. It was good to sing to the hundreds of passersby, many of which stopped to take it in, some for a length of time. We ended the singing with five songs I'd gathered and printed for the occasion. I Sing the Mighty Power of God; The Lord's My Shepherd, I'll Not Want; As the Deer; The Law of the Lord; and The Lord Is My Light. The "Amen" that closes that last song also closed the last metro singing of our year in Montreal.

You can imagine we filled the house right up with people and noise afterward. The Alexandria youth kindly took care of the supper, bringing in pizza, salads, dessert, drinks, and all that. It sure made it nice for us and Kenton's with all that had been going on. Phil & Brenda Wiebe had come with the youth so they, Darrel's, Kenton's, and we socialized in the living room a good long while. We stayed there later than I had hoped, finally leaving around ten. I was so worn out by then in body and spirit. It was good to drive off to our apartment on the south shore, crossing the Jacques Cartier bridge illuminated this time with shifting blues and greens, and lights going up and down the beams. 

When does the switch become official? Probably at this point, halfway through our overlap, for sure with all the technical details taken care of; metro singing over, the craziest day complete. Bittersweet for sure though I couldn't say I felt it very much. I thought if I cried any tears they would be tears of absolute weariness. I had none at all in the end.

Even though our Saturday was pretty low key, I felt pretty worn out all the day especially being bugged by a headache. We didn't cross paths with any of the others during the day like we thought maybe we would. The one special outing we did go on was a visit to Léché Desserts, that marvelous doughnut shop/café just across the railroad from Welcome Hall. Only a few customers were hanging around in there when we arrived and the doughnut showcase was looking pretty empty. No more of those lemon meringues for the day! I tried a mango mousse, Sabrina was glad to have an Earl Grey (her favorite), and the boys shared a raspberry-frosted one with sprinkles. One maple latté and three hot chocolates with that, please. We parked ourselves around a table to enjoy the treat and the vibes. Over the next half hour quite a few people stopped in, and the young guy in charge of taking orders and making drinks was suddenly faced with an afternoon rush. He hadn't finished making our drinks yet by the time a long line had formed. The rest of those doughnuts disappeared pretty quick and we were glad to have been just in time, ahead of that rush. 

While there, I returned a missed call from my younger brother Gerald, who exclaimed, "Well I'm engaged!" And he laughed at my response: "Okay cool. Do you have a date set?" I probably sounded unimpressed or something, reflecting the tiredness I felt throughout the day, but of course we're glad that things have come together at last for him, seemed like a while in the making. Now the engagement with Cassidy Peachey is official! And we won't have to travel anywhere for that wedding this summer as it's a "farm girl next door" kind of story so the event will happen in our home congregation. So we have that to look forward to in a few months. 

Back at the house we tried to rest a bit but it didn't work too well. How do you keep energetic boys entertained in a small apartment anyway? Maxeau Boursiquot from back home had gotten in touch with me earlier. He has lots of relations around Montreal and there was a cousin who had something to send home with us for Max, so as soon as we had the address we went for a long drive to an area I'd never been before, off the north end of the island onto the mainland, across from where the island of Laval begins. Along those branches of the rivers there are many riverside mansions, lots of wealth. Max's cousin wasn't home at the moment but soon someone drove up. Turns out it was a son of hers, but he had no idea who Maxeau was when I explained what I was there for. Poor guy I think we gave him a scare showing up like that. He got on the phone with his mom, went inside, and soon returned with the package. 

Back down Montreal island we went, stopping by CPS to pick up a few more forgotten things (they were gone out for supper by then), swung by church to drop off a couple other things, then that was the end of our outings for the day. Finally, finally, we got the boys to sleep. My idea of doing some packing ahead of time that evening never materialized, partly due to me staying up late to write. Priorities, I know.

Our last Sunday started off with freezing rain which thankfully didn't affect our drive to church. The Edge was iced over but I let it warm up a while and we were good to go. Tyson & Julianna Penner from Roxton Falls and William North & family from Alexandria were there when we arrived. The CPS family walked in the door soon after as well as Akli. He was the only other attendee besides Louis who joined us from the middle of Sunday school through the rest of the service. 

For a message, Darrel brought his inspirations on prayer, corresponding with the song "Sitting At the Feet of Jesus," which we sang earlier in the service. (It's in the metro singing book too so it's a good familiar.) That song had been on his mind as he awoke this morning and he had various Scripture references to share on the topic. It seemed fitting to me, thinking how this small church house is definitely a place where I love to be "Sitting at the feet of Jesus, where I love to kneel and pray." This place will always be special that way. After that, Micah led "O Father, Lead Us," and Riley led the French version of Take Thou My Hand and Lead Me at my request (Saisis ma main craintive); a song I have always loved, especially the French version which has slightly different harmony. 

And as it was our last Sunday together as we were, I brought some closing thoughts which included the verses of blessing found in Numbers 6:22-27, then a prayer to end the service. So well I know the feeling of those Sundays when it's someone's last time; now it's us doing the leaving. The guys, Darrel, and I sang a few songs after the service. Akli was dressed up to leave and waited a bit there, listening to the songs, then gave me a great hug and wanted to have a prayer with me. As other times, his prayer was so full of blessing and warmth from the heart, tears just came. He is such a dear one and I've so enjoyed having him attending our services over the past year. I haven't a doubt he's a soldier in Christ's kingdom. 

He wondered who our replacements were so I showed him Kenton and the two of them got into a good long conversation, probably much like the one I had with him a couple Sundays after our own arrival (April 14: "One Berber's Tale"). It's such an interesting testimony he has. He didn't stay for the dinner the ladies were fixing up so it was just us three families there at church for the meal. Natalie had some kind of a good crock pot meal of chicken thighs over rice. There was a Caesar salad and a simple fruit salad besides. Ice cream, strawberries, fudge sauce, and toasted coconut made up the dessert. You can be sure it was a good time together, though things seemed to unravel afterward among the children so that by the end there was so much crying and noise, we felt no urge to weep any farewell tears ourselves. There were hugs and well wishes, to be sure, but the children took care of the crying. 

Out into the rainy afternoon we went, stopping by Dmitri's apartment building on the way home. They hadn't ventured out because of potentially icy roads that morning so that meant our guest book was still in their possession. Anna had indeed gone for the weekend but had managed to do one more drawing, filling a page this time with a sketch of the church house. Back at the apartment I put my packing skills to task and began loading compacted suitcases into the Edge. Progress was made and what had looked like a formidable attempt at getting everything in started to look more doable. In fact the success of the effort was so inspiring we tossed around the idea of just leaving at the end of the evening rather than staying another night.

Around 6:15, Micah and Riley appeared at the door bringing some pastries with them from a boulangerie. We enjoyed those and hung out a bit before deciding to head to a café together for our farewell. Around 7:15 we parked there (the guys had walked, obviously we have no room for them to ride) and joined them inside Café Terrasse 1957. This was a perfect spot for the occasion, the interior of this charming resto lit with a soft light and rain falling outdoors. The guys got a light supper and the rest of us some warm drinks. Micah kindly paid for it all. Then outside the doors on the porch we said our last goodbyes, got the four of us in the Edge, and left those guys standing on the rainy sidewalk, backlit by the glow of café lights. A snapshot moment, the two of them in their hats and trench coats, pausing to see us off before they walked a little way to the metro access at the end of Montreal's short yellow line that connects to the south shore. 

We cleaned up the rest of our things at the apartment, and now all that's left to do is travel home. The southward highways are calling and we may as well get a head start. 

Au revoir to this adventure; bonjour to another. See you on the other side of the journey.

♦ ♦ ♦

I hardly think it necessary to mention much about all the things we're going to miss when we've returned to our other life. I've written them down all through the year; if you've been following along, you can well imagine for yourself. Many wonderful memories tie a bit of our hearts forever to this city. Different stellar times could only have taken place here and we are lucky to have experienced them. But as the journal is largely a collection of highlights, you may have imagined the year to be an endless festival. (It wasn't.) These are the sketches of the life we'll remember the most anyway.

But the truth remains -- there shall never pass another year quite like this one. The people, places, experiences, and my little family as it is today. The CPS home at 5385 (the address will likely change before long). I will miss the cultural side that enriches this city, but that at least will stay the same if not increase. I will definitely keep studying French. I imagine ourselves returning occasionally in future summers to re-immerse during short vacations. There'll be no re-creation of 2024-2025, just revisiting and encountering things afresh, making new memories.

My little family has been a major part of this time of our lives. I think that makes it easier to leave -- I'm taking them home with me, and life will be good back in the Appalachians together. Adventures await there too.

Not long after 9:15 Sunday evening we headed out for the long drive home. It was raining so not much of the city was visible across the river as we drove southward. We passed the end of the Champlain Bridge's impressive span, lit as usual with slowly shifting blue and green light on the underside. Then that too fell steadily behind us. Nobody was in line ahead of us at the border so it was a breeze. We pulled up to the window and no more than five simple questions later the young guy handed back our documents and sent us on our way. 

Aside from tiredness wanting to catch up, the night drive was wonderful; the boys slept most of the way and there was very little traffic, particularly on the southbound side. For many miles and hours I loved having that Adirondack Northway all to myself, powering along in the trusty Ford Edge which we dubbed long ago our "adventure van" (we've taken it on some wonderful travels besides Montreal). Unlike driving in the city, I was really getting somewhere it felt like. A refrain wove itself in and out of the hum of our singing tires. 

Farther on, still go farther,

Count the milestones one by one.

Jesus will forsake you never;

It is better farther on.

Around 3:30 a.m. we were nearing the border of New York and Pennsylvania. I hoped to drive across it but by that time, drowsiness was beginning to overpower me so Sabrina navigated for a time. We stopped to refuel east of Lock Haven, PA, stepping out into a warm, pre-dawn breeze full of the songs of robins. What a vibe. I drove the rest of the way and the territory grew only more familiar along the way until I needed a map no longer. Skies were mostly cloudy as we crossed Seven Mountains. Heading back up our valley around 7:00 a.m., an end of a rainbow came into sight, and then the other. I don't think we saw a full arch but it was beautiful and amazing all the same. It was the perfect welcome home. 

My mom had been tracking our progress and we were soon back at the homestead. Soft, sweet air, mourning doves cooing across the pasture, kildeers calling across the fields, a woodpecker tapping in the orchard, and the boys running up the walk into their grandma's waiting arms. It was good again to step into the country farmhouse of my growing-up years, and to my eyes it seemed remarkably warm and colorful wherever I turned. I guess spending a year in a house with gray walls and white painted cupboards really did something to me; this is farmhouse is certainly not the modern monochrome or minimalist. We had some breakfast together and it was time to move on.

Six miles up the familiar back road we drove and turned up our neighborhood road. Roger & Peg were sitting out on their small porch as we passed the last turn so I slowed down, opened the window, and we all waved. "Welcome home! Welcome home!" they yelled. Then back to our own house, with all the yards and landscape beds cleaned up (thanks to the youth group who did a wonderful job a couple evenings before) and my small Appalachian flag still waving by the house corner, looking a little more faded from spending the year out there in our absence but at least it never flew away in the wind. Along the house on the southwest side, daffodils and hyacinths were already blooming. Up on the high field by the woods wandered a flock of turkeys. Our little corner of paradise, awakening to the magic of springtime in the Appalachians. 

Mom came shortly, hauling a few of Sabrina's plants and two boxes of a variety of frozen meat from David & Brenda, bless their kind hearts. Nothing like some good local beef and sausage to put in the freezer right off the bat! We rested some in the afternoon, and later the boys were excited to go to grandpa's house again for supper with all the family (who live around here): my folks, Carlos, Randall & Jess and Lillie, Gerald and fiancée Cassidy, and Jeff. (In just a week's time, Randall's will leave to spend two years in Houston, TX under Gospel Tract.) It was a jolly time.

♦ ♦ ♦

As life continues to unfold, no doubt we will find ourselves categorizing its memories as "before Montreal" and "after Montreal," this past year being the milestone that it is. We are glad to have been part of the CPS Montreal history and our lives are the richer for it. And no doubt there will be random pangs of loneliness for the sights, sounds, and good times of that life because part of our hearts will never leave Montreal; and forever etched on my heart there will be a fleur-de-lis. It is as my favorite French folksong says:

Qui peut faire de la voile sans vent?

Qui peut ramer sans rame?

Et qui peut quitter son ami

Sans verser une larme?

Je peux faire de la voile sans vent.

Je peux ramer sans rame.

Mais je n’peux quitter mon ami

Sans verser une larme.

Who can sail without the wind?

Who can row without an oar?

And who can leave his friend

Without shedding a tear?

I can sail without the wind.

I can row without an oar.

But I can't leave my friend

Without shedding a tear.