Cultivating Virtue, Part 1 of 3, by Stephanie Gray

“When we deny children access to meaningful education about their burgeoning sexual development, we give them no choice but to glean what they can from a highly sexualized media.” –Sharna Olfman, psychology professor

     Since moving back to BC a year and a half ago, I have partnered with Signal Hill and the Catholic Independent Schools of the Vancouver Archdiocese to be part of a team of speakers who train parents how to talk to their children about human growth, development, and sexual morality.  When parents don’t feel equipped or comfortable speaking to their children on this topic, the culture’s reaction is to say, “We’ll do it for you,” and then government steps in, as we’re seeing with the Ontario sexual education curriculum.  But what we teach at these “Parent Support Meetings,” is that the parents, not the government, are the primary educators of their children when it comes to sexuality; therefore, instead of replacing the parents in their role, we aid the parents in their role.  That’s why, parents of students in grades 4-7 in Catholic schools in the Vancouver archdiocese are called to come to meetings to be informed, enlightened, and equipped for how to speak with their children on this sensitive topic.  My role is to give a general session presentation and speak to the parents whose children are in grade six.  And upon reflecting on one of my recent presentations, it occurred to me that what I recommend for these parents is good advice for us all.

     After playing this short video, I reflect on the quote by the featured dad who narrates “We have some pretty big hopes for him [his son James].”  Parents naturally want what’s good for their children, and the parents gathered that evening have big hopes for their own kids too.  But, there are strong forces in the world today that can interfere with this.  I ask the parents what challenges they see facing their soon-to-be teenagers, and I get a litany of answers such as

·         video games,

·         social media,

·         pressure to fit a certain mold, and

·         pornography.  

       While some of those things are inherently wrong (pornography), others may or may not be a problem—it’s how they’re used (social media).  So if we step back from the specifics of that list and look at what general problems can be brought about, they are the following:

·         isolation,

·         addiction/no self-control,

·         self-centeredness,

·         using humans as objects, and

·         a false identity.

     So if we want to directly respond to these negative forces we need to develop their opposite, positive, forces.  Doing so creates an environment where virtue, instead of vice, will naturally breed.  So there are 5 things I recommend for the parents, and us all:

1.      Organize self-less activities

     When I was growing up, my mom volunteered—a lot.  And because she volunteered, quite naturally my sister and I volunteered too, helping her deliver meals on wheels or assisting at various pro-life and church events.  Her nursing work with the elderly naturally lead to our playing the piano for the elderly, and so forth.  How often are parents taking their children volunteering?  The more that happens, the more children will naturally look outside themselves, building a defense against the temptation to turn inward.

     Then there is RAK: Random Acts of Kindness.  A few years ago when I was living in the Toronto area, I was bored about an impeding lonely weekend with no plans.  While lamenting over text with one of my friends in Calgary, she too was bored and down on life, and although we were texting that we wished we could hang out with each other that weekend, geography and expensive flights put that idea to rest.  Then she texted me, “I know what we need!  We need RAK!”  I thought it was a typo or strange auto-correct, but then she explained to me what RAK was, and how we could challenge each other to spend the weekend doing at least 7 random acts of kindness, taking photos of our adventures, and then swapping stories at the end of the weekend.  From leaving flowers on a car in a parking lot, to placing an uplifting quote on a post-it note in a public washroom, to making a meal for a needy friend, to leaving an encouraging note at a bank machine, to dropping off an envelope at Tim Horton’s with money for the cashier and the next customer, and more, We. Had. A. Blast.  Our weekend started off negative, but it ended so positively; there were smiles, laughter, and joy, all because instead of looking inwards, we chose to change our gaze outwards.

Wondering what the other points are?  Fine out in part 2 of this reflection!

My Changed Perspective on Coffee, by Stephanie Gray

     I once was a coffee snob.  The key word is was.  It all began in Costa Rica.  I traveled there in 2011 to give several talks, and was introduced to the wonderful world of coffee (before then, I had been only a Tea Granny, and that I still am).  You can’t go to one of the best coffee growers in the world and not begin to enjoy the luxurious liquid that is coffee.

     I returned to enjoy fine coffee shops, including Vancouver’s wonderful 49th Parallel.  I was that person who, when going to a restaurant, would order coffee and ask, “How fresh is the coffee?” and the waitress would usually say, “I’ll put on a new pot for you.”  And I would be quite satisfied at the fresh cup of java coming my way.  But last fall, everything changed. 

     I went on a 40 day experience in the wilderness at Madonna House (which I’ve written about previously here).  Suddenly, daily coffee was no longer a reality—it was relegated to special occasions, namely Sunday.  Their founder Catherine Doherty, a Russian baroness, had instituted “tea time” at several periods throughout the day, and as much as I love tea too, something happens when you’re deprived of something you like: you seem to want it even more.  I would drink the tea but think, “I wish I could have coffee.”

     And then Sunday came.  Madonna House lives a spirit of poverty so although there would be no “whole milk latte” or fancy, freshly ground coffee beans, Sunday was the day where there was, at least, plain ‘ol coffee.  Having been deprived of it for several days, I can’t begin to tell you how good it was. 

     Then, imagine my surprise one Monday when coffee was in a canister at my table.  I eagerly poured a cup and savored my first sip: “Wow, this is really good; it tastes even better than yesterday’s coffee,” I said.  One of the members then said to me, “It is yesterday’s coffee; it was leftover so we reheated it.”  The coffee connoisseurs out there might cringe but I have lived to tell the tale and can testify that it tasted even better after 24 hours.

     Then there was the day I was assigned to work on the farm.  The community had just slaughtered 4 cows and over 30 sheep, and I was one of the people tasked with cutting up the meat.  Since our job was more challenging, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that when we took a break for tea time, those of us cutting up the meat got a special treat: Coffee!  But it was instant coffee.  Well, no joke: It. Was. Delicious.

     Through all this, I enjoyed coffee more.  Why?  Because I appreciated it more.  Why?  Because it wasn’t accessible every day, so it became “special” and thus notable.  Unfortunately this experience is uncommon in the western world.  We have such excess that we are rarely, if ever, deprived.  Whatever our mood, craving, or desire, we can generally satisfy it.  It’s not that to do so is necessarily bad, it’s just that when we don’t temper our consumption of things, we can find ourselves losing the ability to see the special and to grow in discipline.

     As I have reflected on our culture of late, what has struck me is how, if we are to be a better society, we need to get back to basics like growing in virtues such as temperance and prudence.  A virtuous society must pursue the good, but what is good is often not easy.  Being ethical in law, in politics, in medicine, or in any field for that matter, requires sometimes going against what we want or against what is easy, because it is what is right.  We are more likely to do this if we exercise our willpower.  Just as someone who is physically strong must work out, must start with lighter weights and increase the heaviness, so too, if we want the moral discipline to do the right thing even when it’s hard, do we need to “exercise” our non-physical will and look for little ways to consistently practice going against impulses.  This is where depriving ourselves of something we desire, such as coffee, exercises those “muscles” so we’re stronger when it really matters.  It’s not that consuming coffee or something we crave is necessarily bad (nor is it wrong to enjoy a “finer” product—I still enjoy a luxury coffee now and then), it’s simply that when we practice saying no at times, it helps us in future situations where we really should say no.  It also helps us appreciate what we do get, when we get it.

     Author and speaker Matthew Kelly has written about this when he says,

     “Learning to delay gratification is one of life’s essential lessons…You cannot have a successful marriage, be a great parent, maintain good health, establish financial stability, or become educated unless you are willing to delay gratification.  The best at anything are better than everyone else at delaying gratification--and that includes the great Christian heroes, champions, and saints who fill the history books” (Source: Rediscover Jesus).

     That’s why, every morning, I pull a piece of paper out of what I call my “Sacrifice Box.”  On the papers is written the three things I ideally like to consume daily: Coffee, tea, and a little sweet (90% dark chocolate and gummies are my favorites).  Each morning I choose to deprive myself of one of them.  I put my hand in the box and close my eyes and ask God to help me pick out the item that will be most pleasing to Him, that will help me grow in holiness.  Then, whichever paper I grab is the object I deprive myself of that day.  When it’s free coffee day at McDonald’s, that’s usually when the coffee sacrifice is picked out.   And the day that’s set aside to go to a tea room with friends is typically when the tea sacrifice is selected.  The deprivation pinches, but it also builds self-control and helps us make decisions based on will power, not feeling. 

     “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” –Galatians 5:22-23

A Father's Love

This is a must-watch video about the meaning of love.  As Daniel Vander Woude says in it, "We've come to understand Christ's sacrifice even moreso because of Dad's sacrifice for Joseph." 

The Family Project® | http://thefamilyproject.com Reverend Thomas Vander Woude shares the powerful story of sacrificial love shown by his father, who gave his life to save his son with Down Syndrome, and the profound impact this had on their family. This clip is excerpted from session 5 of The Family Project®, "The Man Has Now Become Like One of Us."

Civilization's Helpless Members

Image Source: Peter Hagyo-Kovacs from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Arab_market-1.JPG

Author Pearl S. Buck once wrote, "The test of a civilization is the way that it cares for its helpless members."

That came to mind when I re-read a reflection a student shared with me several years ago.  After being equipped to engage the culture on abortion, he participated in a pro-life display at the University of Minnesota.  Of the many students he encountered, I was particularly struck by one in particular, whose story he shared as follows: 

"A 19-year-old freshman Muslim woman recounted a riveting story after I called her over to the barricade so we could discuss her thoughts on abortion.  She told me about how her twin sister had become pregnant unintentionally in the recent past.  While abortion was contrary to Islamic teachings, her parents were more concerned with avoiding the disgrace of an unwed and pregnant daughter.  Therefore, they were forcing her to have an abortion against her will.  However, the woman I talked to described how she had helped her sister escape their parents and live in hiding until she gave birth secretly to save the child.  Thankfully, since the birth of the child, their parents have become supportive of the new baby."

This parental abandonment of a pregnant child is unfortunately not an isolated incident, as I wrote about another such case last year.  But what is so strikingly beautiful about both stories is that the pregnant children didn't make a pattern: They refused to abandon their pre-born children the way their own parents abandoned them.  They took a stand; they passed the test of a civil society by protecting and caring for its helpless members.

And by their courageous example, they challenged their parents to do the same.  That is the power of doing the right thing—it inspires others to follow, even if they are initially slow to respond.  Indeed, as author Matthew Kelly has pointed out,

“Virtue inspires me.  Virtue in other people challenges me.  Virtue raises me up.  Virtue allows me to catch a glimpse of what is possible.  Virtue gives me hope for the future of humanity.”

The Christmas Story Teaches Us to Celebrate New Life, by Stephanie Gray

In a recent conversation with a friend of mine who is an accountant, she lamented how this time of year is her busiest season.  In contrast, my job of being a pro-life educator means year end is my slow season: people generally don’t want to hear about a negative topic like abortion during the positive season of Christmas.  And yet, the topic of abortion and the story of Christmas have their connection.

The Christmas story involves a young, unmarried girl faced with an unplanned pregnancy.  She wonders “How can this be?”  (Luke 1:34)  Her not-yet-husband considers putting “her away secretly” (Matthew 1:19).

How many in our culture find themselves in a similar situation of an unexpected pregnancy?  How many find themselves bewildered?  But not all choose to respond as Joseph and Mary did; some choose abortion.  Which brings to mind the power of choice, which Holocaust-survivor Viktor Frankl once spoke about as follows: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Our Heavenly Father, Mary and Joseph teach us to choose well when we “choose one’s attitude…choose one’s own way” in the set of circumstances we find ourselves in: 

God reminds us to choose the right attitude: Even in crisis and the unknown, we are to, as His messenger declared, “not be afraid” (Matthew 1:20, Luke 1:30).

Mary reminds us to choose to trustingly surrender to our Creator who is much wiser than His creatures: “Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Joseph reminds us to choose to protect the vulnerable: “‘Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins’ ...When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him” (Matthew 1:21, 24).

And because of these choices, we have the conception and birth of the Christ child to celebrate.  And what a celebration it is: the Scriptures show through at least seven people/gatherings that an encounter with “the little Lord Jesus” is cause for praise:

Mary: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.  For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name” (Luke 1:47-49).

Pre-born John the Baptist: “…the babe leapt in her womb…” (Luke 1:41)

Elizabeth: “…Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and she exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?’” (Luke 1:41-43).

An angel and the Heavenly host: “‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!’” (Luke 2:13-14)

Shepherds: “…the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen” (Luke 2:20).

Simeon: “…when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God” (Luke 2:27-28).

Anna: “…coming up at that very hour she gave thanks to God, and spoke of him to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38).

The Christmas story teaches us to celebrate new life.  Although a pregnant woman today does not nurture Christ in her womb like Mary did, each pregnant woman does nurture an unrepeatable and irreplaceable soul stamped with the image of the Almighty.  Regardless of the circumstances, the presence of God’s creation, which is “very good” (Genesis 1:31), should prompt us to choose as Mary and Joseph did: choose the right attitude, choose to trustingly surrender to God, and choose to protect the vulnerable.  

This was originally posted at the Dynamic Women of Faith blog.

Be Still, by Stephanie Gray

I got my first e-mail address in 1998.  And I have been “connected” since then.  But on October 6 that changed: For 40 days I disconnected entirely from e-mail, Facebook, texting, and phone, and went on a six-week retreat.  In the coming months I’ll be reflecting on my 40 days in the wilderness (literally—I was in a small town in the woods of Ontario), but initially I want to share this insight:

My time was spent with the beautiful apostolate Madonna House, situated on the Madawaska River in Combermere.  The river often moved making little ripples, but on a number of occasions, often later in the day, I noticed it would be entirely still so that the trees and sky were perfectly reflected on its glassy surface.  One day I decided to capture this profound stillness and the photo above shows how perfectly tranquil the water was.  That reminded me of a quote by one of my favorite authors, Father Jacques Philippe who wrote the following in his book Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart:

“Consider the surface of a lake, above which the sun is shining.  If the surface of the lake is peaceful and tranquil, the sun will be reflected in this lake; and the more peaceful the lake, the more perfectly it will be reflected.  If, on the contrary, the surface of the lake is agitated, undulating, then the image of the sun can not be reflected in it. 

“It is a little bit like this with regard to our soul in relationship with God.  The more our soul is peaceful and tranquil, the more God is reflected in it, the more His image expresses itself in us, the more His grace acts through us.”

There are many things my 40 days away taught me, but most certainly one was the power of peace, and the necessity that we be still.

The Garden of Stephen, by Stephanie Gray

“The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature.  To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul.” –Alfred Austin

A garden is a teacher of life’s great lessons; namely, that variety breeds beauty, that good fruit is born of hard work, and that nature has its own rhythm to be trusted.  My father’s garden is set apart in its manifestation of these.

With a house sitting on almost a quarter acre of land, Pops, as I affectionately call my father, had a good chunk of space to work with.  Growing up, our backyard was simple: a large stretch of green grass and a long, rectangular plot of dirt for growing vegetables.  But when Pops retired, he transformed the plain, practical space into a living masterpiece. 

Variety

A garden is made more beautiful by a variety of plants and trees—it’s the many different colors and kinds that make it so attractive.  It’s a bit like our world—if everyone were a cardboard cutout of each other, how boring it would be!  It’s our different personalities, ethnicities, and idiosyncrasies that make the world interesting and exciting.  So too with Pops’ garden, which has as its pinnacle the pink magnolia tree, shading the area where we gather: “the red square” (dubbed so for its brick base).  Transplanted from the front yard, and dotted throughout the oasis of the backyard, are pink, purple, and blue hydrangea bushes.

Narrow pathways of the green lawn wind around the now-colorful space, lined with phlox, roses, rhododendrons, a Japanese willow, evergreens, a cherry tree, english laurel, lilac, yellow forsythia, potentillas, red and pink weigela, echinacea, and a diversity of bushes from Rose of Sharon, to viburnum, camellia, and spirea, and, even, heavenly bamboo.

Hard Work

One of the things I love about Pops is that he’s a fighter—it’s a tribute to his Scottish nature, for there’s naturally a bit of “Braveheart” in every Scot’s blood.  His determination and sheer will power conquered his lack of knowledge when it came to gardening.

Pops is self-taught.  To him, not knowing something isn’t an obstacle; it’s an opportunity to learn.  As retirement brought a slower pace of life, Pops took the time to teach himself how to garden.  Reading gardening magazines and looking at pictures would give him some ideas.  Others came from his imagination—and creativity and hard work brought things to life.

I asked him how he knew what to do, and he said from his study along with simply planting at his own discretion, learning another life lesson: the need to be flexible.  Pops told me, “Sometimes you realize, like all gardeners do, that you plant stuff in the wrong place, and so you have to change it around, but that’s trial and error and learning from experience.  Some plants like shade and some plants like sun, and just like humans they need to be fed, as well as get haircuts (pruning!).”

It took years of persistence, “practice making perfect,” and the reality of time for the garden to take on a life of its own, but now it is a magnet for those desiring to be surrounded by beauty.

Nature

I asked pops what gardening taught him, and he said, “The amazing hardiness of creation.”  When I asked him what he liked most about his garden, he explained, “Seeing all the flowers and trees bloom in the spring.  You look in the winter and think everything is dead and think it won’t come back again, but in the Spring you wander around and you see signs of life coming from the earth and all of a sudden, one day, it just shoots into bloom.”

I think we need to trust nature more.  In a world of technology, we often attempt to change the natural instead of letting it be, letting it teach us to weather storms and embrace changing seasons.  That’s not to say all things natural should be left wild—pruning is important, but it is to say that life has its own rhythms and routines worth embracing and growing from.

Immersing oneself in nature affords an opportunity to reflect on this.  And a garden, in particular, attracts contemplative souls to such musings, as well as to embrace nature’s beauty, something Pops’ garden does naturally, drawing birds and insects of all kinds along with Pops’ family and friends.

In fact, if the flowers, bushes, and trees of the Garden of Stephen could talk, they would tell tales of countless souls that have basked in its serenity, ladies who have enjoyed tea time, hummingbirds who have drunk from its nectar, and children who have played amidst its magic.  It is a sight to behold and a work of art to experience.

“Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul.” –Luther Burbank

Do You See What I See? by Stephanie Gray

Glass half empty or glass half full?  It’s a question that shows how the same thing can be viewed two entirely different ways—the negative or the positive.  How we see something determines everything.  It’s all about perspective.

If you walk into an assisted living home for the elderly, you might see this:

•    An empty piano alongside a blaring TV with a row of wheelchairs in front of the latter, with the occupants of said chairs ranging from sleeping to zoned-out watching.
•    A drooling old man, wearing an oversized bib, sitting alone, slumped against a table.
•    A crippled, toothless person sitting alone in a room staring out the door to an empty hallway.
•    An elderly lady who refuses to leave her dark room for breakfast.

And if you see that, you might just support euthanasia. 

But I’d like to tell you what I see:

•    I see people to give the gift of music to, entertaining them by a person playing the piano.
•    I see an elderly lady who can be given an opportunity to come alive with music, giving her a chance to joyfully reminisce about her days when she attended musicals.  I see that lady not just standing, but dancing to the beat, swinging her arms, and singing along.
•    I see an opportunity to wipe the face of someone who, decades before, wiped the faces of many other souls.
•    I see a chance to slide open curtains and share the sunshine with a lady who didn’t know it was there.
•    I see someone with ears to speak to.
•    I see lips to be provoked into a smile.
•    I see sweet ladies to listen to and laugh with.
•    I see a fragile, soft hand to hold and give the gift of touch to.
•    I see people in wheelchairs to push into the brilliance and beauty of the outdoors.

And if you see that, you might just thank these people for being.  You might just realize their existence is enough to warrant our attention.  You might just realize

we have something to give,

something to learn,

and most importantly, someone to love.

Indeed, how we see something—especially someone—determines everything.

When I Went to Auschwitz, by Stephanie Gray

Nine years ago I travelled to Poland; while there, I visited Auschwitz.  That came to mind today, August 14, because this day marks the day that a saint, Father Maximillian Kolbe, was murdered by the Nazis.  I went to the very cell where that atrocity occurred, and this was my reflection to family and friends back home:

Our next morning was extremely sobering as we went to Auschwitz I and Auschwitz II/Birkenau concentration camps.  I'm finding it difficult to find the words to describe the experience of walking around a place built for such evil.  It was gut-wrenching.

We were shown how the SS viewed everything about the Jews and other prisoners as a commodity and refused to let anything go to waste. They used clothes for soldiers and other Germans; they used hair for socks, felt stockings, and yarn; they used even human ashes from the ovens for fertilizer.  Human life was viewed as disposable, an object to be used or discarded.

Two images stand out in my mind in particular: 1) a newborn baby's white knitted sweater amidst rows of clothes and 2) piles of medical aids (crutches, leg braces, etc).  Children?!  Sick people?!  It is impossible to understand how they could harm anyone, but one is especially bewildered at how they could attack the most weak and vulnerable.

At the entry to one of the buildings, the museum placed this quote by George Santayana, "The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again."

And this is how, regrettably, the tragedy of the Holocaust lives on.  While society may remember the specific event of the Holocaust, it seems to forget the philosophy behind it.  When we fail to recognize the inherent dignity of human life, when we persist in considering the sick and the young (pre-born) as a burden, an inconvenience, or as having a low quality of life (the Nazis believed in “lives unworthy of life”) then our society maintains the very mentality that drove the SS to such destruction.

LIGHT AMIDST DARKNESS

This is why a Polish man who lived during the time of the Holocaust is such an inspiration to me: St. Maximillian Kolbe.  He was God's gift to a dark world, bringing an example and a message of hope for “such as a time as this.”

One of the most emotional moments at Auschwitz I was at Building 11 (execution block), cell 18, the cement basement cell where Father Kolbe was killed, a priest who freely offered to take the place of a fellow prisoner who had been sentenced to death.  For two weeks Kolbe sat cold and naked without food or water.  He helped calm those within the cell and surrounding ones by singing and praying.  The museum made a memorial to Kolbe in that cell and tells his story by saying the following: “Within concentration camps there were some resistance movements that were organized.  We tell Kolbe's story because he showed the greatest resistance to the Nazis: by staying human.”

In preparation for that trip, I had read a book about St. Kolbe called A Man for Others, by Patricia Treece.  In it is this powerful quote from Saint Kolbe, worth remembering on this day in particular:

“When grace fires in our hearts, it stirs up in them a true thirst for suffering...to show...to what extent we love Our Heavenly Father..for it is only through suffering that we learn how to love...In suffering and persecution [we]...reach a high degree of sanctity and, at the same time...bring our persecutors to God.”

Butterfly Children, by Stephanie Gray

     If you want to figure out if something is truly necessary in life, ask yourself, “Without it, would I die?”  In light of that perspective, one can certainly conclude that food is a necessity for survival.  It would therefore make sense that consuming food would bring nourishment that makes us feel good, not bad.  Consider, though, the case of Jonathan Pitre, a 14-year-old boy growing up in Ontario.  While food does nourish his body, it comes with a painful cost: eating causes blisters inside his throat. 

     Jonathan has a rare and excruciatingly painful genetic condition called epidermolysis bullosa (EB).  It is so debilitating that friction on his skin causes blisters on his body too.  In a moving documentary that can be seen here, one is exposed to the horrifying effects this condition has on Jonathan’s body: bandages that daily wrap around his fragile, skeletal frame, are removed to reveal his scaly, blistered, and cracking red skin.

     People like Jonathan are described as “Butterfly Children.”  When asked to explain why that is, Jonathan says, “They call us butterfly children because our skin is as fragile as a butterfly’s wings.  As much as a butterfly is pretty and gentle, we have the heart of warriors.  We very much are stronger than we appear.”

     A warrior Jonathan most certainly is.  Indeed, this small-in-stature teenager who relies heavily on others (such as his fiercely devoted mother) to daily care for him, has a strength to endure unimaginable pain.  He has a strength to continue moving forward in life, showing that hope is possible amidst suffering.

     How?  In reflecting on the documentary, three answers come to mind as highlighted in Jonathan’s life:

1.      The necessity of community.

2.      The importance of a shared experience.

3.      The power of the human will.

     When asked where his strength comes from, Jonathan reflects, “[My] strength comes from people around me, ‘cause they do believe in me, that I can get through it.”  Indeed, there is something about the encouragement and “cheerleading” of another that can drive us forward.  Consider why business people hire personal coaches, or why gyms offer personal trainers— it's because we humans thrive on relationship with others. We need their encouragement. We weren't meant to be alone.

     Indeed, when Jonathan had the opportunity to watch an Ottawa Senator’s game, and asked if he would be watching one player in particular, he responded, “A team isn’t just made of one player, it’s all of them, so I’ll be watching the whole team.”

     Jonathan not only experienced the necessity of community, but also the importance of a shared experience.  A life-changing moment for him was in 2012 when he attended an EB conference.  Why?  Because previously he had met no one with his condition.  Suddenly, a whole new world was opened up to him, a world of being “understood” in a deep and profound way.  He said, “I knew that I wasn’t alone anymore.”

     What is striking, is the effect meeting others like him had on him—it expanded his empathy and his desire to look outward.  He said, “I knew since then that I was going to become an ambassador.  I want to start helping other people with EB.”  This conviction of his brings to life the words of Holocaust-survivor Viktor Frankl who wrote, “The more one forgets himself—by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love—the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself.”

     Finally, Jonathan shows us the power of the human will.  There are others like him, with profound suffering, who don’t have the positive outlook on life that he has.  So while many can share the same experience—suffering—not all share the same response.  The response is what we individually choose.  And we can choose optimism, persistence, and drive, just like Jonathan has.  This reflects the power of the human will, which Frankl also speaks about:

     “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”