Chapter Thirty
Big day. Speeches at City Hall at 10:00 a.m., graduation ceremony at 1:00 p.m. The four of us had made it. We’d survived. But I couldn’t stop crying. Fear. Nostalgia. Excitement. The reality of leaving choked me. By the end of the day, I’d have to say goodbye to the greatest treasures in my life: Mr. Lavoy, Rie, Pastor Josh, and Mr. Tanji.
The first time I’d ever seen Mr. Lavoy, he’d been cradling a copy of Les Misérables in his hands. He’d warmed the class with his grey eyes and campfire smile, and then he’d quoted nine simple words: “If no one loved, the sun would go out.” Those nine words had been the dawn of my darkness. The first spark of the fire that had saved my life. And the flames had been kept alive by my teachers, counsellors, and friends.
Where would I be without them?
How would I say goodbye?
I pulled the covers over my head. “Tuffy, I’m so scared.” I kissed his neck, tucked my face under his chin, and reached my arm over his chest.
Tuffy pulled the covers off my face. “You worked on that speech until two o’clock this morning.”
“It’s not just the speech —” A knock at the door startled me. I sat up.
“I’ll get it, Chanie.” Tuffy tousled my hair and kissed my tear-streaked cheeks. “Hold on, man,” Tuffy called out as he wrapped himself in a fluffy white robe. I leaned over and kissed his pillow as he made his way to the door. He came back with a giant vase filled with wispy wildflowers, stargazer lilies, roses, daisies, baby’s breath, and greens. A big shiny balloon tied with pink ribbon said Celebrate!
“What does the card say?” I said.
“It says, ‘I think your dad would have wanted you to have these today! Ali.’”
“Wow, that’s so sweet.”
“There’s another card.” Tuffy handed me a pink envelope sealed with a gold sticker. I recognized Mr. Tanji’s swirly writing: Don’t open this until you leave the city.
I started crying again. I’d wept all through the night. “Tuffy, I can’t stop crying.”
“Chanie, I know you’re sad. Don’t look behind you. Look ahead. Look at what you’ve come through. It’s going to be amazing. We’ll get some dogs and horses. We’ll camp in the mountains.”
“I love you so much, Tuffy.”
“I love you too, Chanie. So much that nothing can stop us!”
“How am I going to do this speech today? I’m a mess.”
“You’ll just do it like you’ve done everything else, with your shoulders back and my love in your heart.”
Ginger and Jeremy met us in the lounge for the breakfast buffet. The Sawridge felt like a secret lodge in the mountains with its huge wooden beams, vaulted ceilings, rustic stone, and pine trees wrapped with violet lights. The walls were adorned with brilliant artwork and huge feathers in wooden frames. Big, beautiful dreamcatchers were mounted forty feet high with pink-and-yellow-tipped feathers that dangled beneath their webs. They hovered over us like protective angels. The server pointed to the biggest one and said, “That’s the biggest dreamcatcher in North America!”
“What time is our bus to Kelowna?” Ginger said.
“It’s at midnight,” I said. “Should we stay awake all night?”
“Let’s let the day take us where it may,” Tuffy said. “We can sleep on the bus if we need to.”
“How will we know where to go?” Ginger said.
“Mr. Tanji gave me the address and the keys to the apartment,” I said.
“It seems like a miracle, doesn’t it, Chanie?” Ginger started to cry.
“It is a miracle, Ginger.” I smiled up at the dreamcatchers, their swirly, complex paths all flowing together in union. Perfect intersections, splendid patterns, dangling and waving gently like they were saying, We brought you here to heal, but now it’s safe to go.
An hour later, I sat alone in a room at City Hall waiting to give my speech.
I wasn’t ready.
Only hours before, I’d written a series of thoughts on the back of my original cue cards. At two in the morning, high on chai lattes and emotions, the words had sounded amazing. But I hadn’t looked since. I couldn’t.
“Anyone can recite an essay, Chanie.” Mr. Tanji’s words played in my head. “In order to touch their hearts, you must show them your truth.”
“Ms. Nyrider. We’re waiting.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and walked onto the stage.
My bohemian sundress flowed in the breeze, like the feathers of a dreamcatcher reminding me that everything was as it should be. Ginger waved a big sun hat in the air. She was so beautiful, her copper hair and blue eyes looked like the light of angels. We’d braided each other’s hair that morning before we’d put on our matching dresses.
“Remember my dream, Chanie? The one about us gardening together in bohemian dresses and big, floppy sun hats?”
I’d taken her hands in mine and said, “‘And you know, it seemed like we’ve known and loved each other for our whole lives, Chanie.’”
“It’s what I pictured when Blue and Milos were hurting me. I closed my eyes and came back to us in the garden. It’s how I survived.”
“That’s where I went too, Ginger. I looked for you.”
“We are fated to be the best of friends. In life and death,” we said in unison.
Life.
I took a deep breath and began my speech.
a man pulled me out of a garbage bin. He saved my life. The newspaper titled the article “Prostitute Saved by Homeless Man.” It should have read “Student Saved by Hero.” The hero’s name is Al, and my name is Chanie Nyrider. I am a graduate of the Begin Again program and will start my Bachelor of Arts degree at UBC in September.
Last night, I recited my speech for my mentor. He said, “Your speech is very sound, Chanie. But where is your heart?” So I drank a couple of lattes and did what I’ve learned to do: Begin again and try harder. Speak and live my truth.
But what if I don’t win?
Then I will embrace each day and keep trying. Winning or losing won’t invalidate my love for literature. For learning. For growing and serving others. With or without the scholarship, I will do whatever it takes to live this life strong. Because I’ve come to learn that I matter. And that people see me.
If life gets hard, I’ll try harder. And then even harder if I must.
I won’t ever stop because …
I believe.
I believe that angels surround us, and they wear the suits of homeless people, teachers, lawyers, and students. That magic exists in literature, art, and music. Look around. Who do you see?
A group of kids with braided hair.
Neighbours who see us when we don’t see them.
People who fight for us when we can’t fight for ourselves.
Those who come to know us rather than judge us.
And the people who commit their lives to rebuilding the lives of others.
So, if you don’t want to try hard for yourself, do it for somebody else.
Be somebody’s miracle. Because we are never so flawed that we cannot give.
There are incredibly cool people who suffer from mental illness.
And they deserve happiness.
And there are people weighed down with shame and regrets.
Those people still do amazing things.
There are people with addictions, and they find healing.
And go on to heal others.
Find yourself amongst your demons because there is gold in there.
Kindness will never fail you.
An open mind will never fail you.
Trying will never fail you.
Who do you want to be?
Who do you want to inspire?
Believe and push for your highest self.
Be someone’s light.
Just keep trying.
And then try harder.
Because someone may be watching you and waiting for you to save their life.