1. Introducing Myself
Hello, I’m Arie Dof, but you can
simply call me Arie, as is the Canadian custom. Five years ago, my family and I
embarked on a journey from Rotterdam, spending nine days at sea and three days by
rail before we finally reached Alberta, Canada.
Back in Holland, I was a modest
market gardener—not that I’m modest in stature, standing at 185 cm (6’ 1”). My
two eldest sons were eager to explore Canada, and my wife, Katrien, shared
their adventurous spirit. We spent six months in prayerful consideration before
taking the leap. With seven sons and two daughters, the prospects of my
children earning a livelihood on my vegetable farm were very limited, and
Canada promised vast opportunities, according to the information we received in
The Hague.
We’ve been in Canada for over five
years now, and it’s been anything but dull. We’re grateful for our many
blessings. Our first year was spent working on a large farm, where my two
eldest sons and I earned a good wage. The farmer was a fine man, albeit one who
spent his money faster than he earned it—a trait we’ve noticed is quite common
among Canadians. They live day by day. The farmer’s wife was also good at
spending her money.
I hope to start my own gardening
business someday, although my sons aren’t too keen on the idea. They earn a
good living in the city and are content with their lives. My eldest daughter is
training to be a nurse, the second helps Katrien at home, three are still in
school, and the youngest two are not yet of school age.
As an immigrant, I’m grateful for
the opportunity to serve the Lord here in Canada. I’m an elder in the church,
vice president of the choir, and a board member of the Christian school
association. Katrien often remarks that I’m just as busy here in Canada as I
was in Holland and that I spend too little time at home. She’s right, of
course. But when you’re called to serve—and if I’m honest, I enjoy attending
meetings—what can you do?
Our pastor and I have a good
relationship. He seems to see more potential in me than I see in myself. Last
week, after a church council meeting, he drove me home and said that I should write
about life in Canada as an immigrant.
The suggestion took me by surprise.
When I first arrived in Canada, I occasionally sent articles to a regional
magazine in Holland, which I used to read regularly. To my family’s surprise,
those pieces were published. I still have those newspapers. But I don’t
consider myself a writer. I think I’m too pragmatic and lack the necessary
imagination—although Katrien would argue that I have a knack for exaggeration.
Moreover, my education was limited to primary school and horticultural winter
school.
I told the pastor that I wasn’t
particularly skilled with the pen and didn’t have anything special to write
about, as I considered my life quite ordinary. “That’s the point, Arie,” he
replied smoothly. “Most people write about what they find special and important.
You should write about the ordinary aspects of your immigrant life.”
You can’t argue with a pastor, so I
agreed to give it a try. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll stop.
The pastor suggested that I jot down
my thoughts on any and every topic. So here I am, pen in hand, trying to think
of something to write.
There’s still much to say about
Canada and our life here.
Writing isn’t as difficult as I thought!
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