By now you might have heard that we are hosting a little party called the Winter Olympics. The world is coming to visit, and we have been practicing sneezing into our elbows for months now. I think that we have it perfected. After all, we are Canadians, and we don’t want to offend anyone.
One of the nicest ideas to celebrate the Olympics, beyond sneezing into our elbows, is the TORCH RELAY. The Olympic flame has been flown in from Athens Greece, and is travelling across Canada, stopping in large cities, and small towns. Over 100 days, and over 1000 communities. Everyone who wants to, shall get a chance to see it go by.
Passed from runners, to walkers, to dignitaries, and ordinary folk. People come out to watch as it goes through, it is a journey of massive proportions. And it has unified Canada, joining together a country in celebration. It makes your throat swell with pride to see the crowds on the nightly news. It passed through the tiny little town of Armstrong, and my parents got to see it at 2:14 pm, in the afternoon.
We have eagerly been waiting to find out the secret time that it will pass through White Rock. Only divulged a week before the actual event, it could be during any of the waking hours. Our time?
Right, that is 6:30 am.
Yes, 6:30 am, when the air is still freezing cold, and it is pitch dark outside. When most likely, the rain is falling, and I will be regretting leaving my warm bed, and trudging down a dark street. Wondering if I made the right decision, and should I just give it all up and go back home.
I am counting on the euphoria of the cheering crowd, of feeling my heart swell, in seeing the pride on the face of the chosen torch bearer, proudly running their designated 1000 meters.
Then I will know, that I have made the right decision. And that this is the chance of a lifetime.
Oh Canada, by torchlight.
With Glowing Hearts.
We stand on guard for thee.