Monday, December 23, 2013

Of Ice and Warmth

The rain keeps coming and the trees become more like icicle stalagmites shimmering in the light as the layers of ice grow thicker and thicker. Each branch seems like a crystal wand, making crackling sounds in the wind, and forcing light to dance all around it. This is the beauty of an ice storm, but the beauty evolves quickly to an after-thought when the thunderous crash of falling limbs (almost always at night) signals destruction, and the darkness of power outages forewarns danger.

Ice storms can be scary – especially in cities where we are used to controlling our environment. We are used to comforts like heat, electricity and transportation being as certain as the rising and setting of the sun. Over the last few days, however, millions of people in Southern Ontario experienced a great ice storm, and hundreds of thousands remain without these aspects of daily life that we usually take for granted.

It would appear that Appleby got off lightly. We lost power for much of Sunday, and the related brown-outs caused some mechanical issues. But other than some inconvenience, a few broken tree limbs, and the cancellation of some hockey rentals, all is well on campus.

The same cannot be said for much of the GTA. My mother and brother’s homes had their power wires torn down, and my brother’s van ended up with a large branch through its front window. Many streets were shut down strewn with tree parts and wires.

All this mayhem creates worry, hardship and discomfort. But at the same time, it is the catalyst for wonderful things – for servant leadership, for kindness, and for communities coming together.

I am reminded of the couple who just returned home from the hospital with their three-day-old son, only to lose heat and power, and their street being impassable, moving to their living room and cooking in their fireplace. After four days, they had to drain the water system, but by that time mum and baby were able to bunk with relatives. Over the week, all the people on their street came together. The elderly regularly checked on by neighbours; the family with a gas cooked and shared hot meals with those who didn’t; the lady with an old, non-electric, heating system invited others to sleep over; and everyone chipped in to clear sidewalks and roads, and repair homes. People who lived in immediate proximity to each other for years but never even talked, were suddenly working together as caring and committed teammates. The dynamic was wonderful and long-lasting – a remarkable community-builder.

Of course, it is too soon for this to be a story from the Toronto 2013 ice storm, although I suspect that there are many like it. This story is taken from 16 years ago less two weeks. It was from the great ice storm that hit Eastern Ontario and Western Quebec. And while my son Jack can’t remember the first week of his life on Albert Street in Kingston, his parents will never forget the experience – the beauty, the sounds,  the fear, and most importantly, the sense of togetherness with everyone on the street.

If perchance you have the misfortune of being negatively affected by the 2013 ice storm, I wish for you the good fortune of experiencing the same sense of community and giving that we did 16 years ago.

Wishing you all a very happy Christmas and holiday season.

No comments:

Post a Comment