January 2018

The group of us waited at the bottom of the escalator. We had welcome signs in both English and Arabic.  All of us strained to see who was coming down from the arrivals floor.

Greeting our Syrian refugee family at the Ottawa airport

We’d been waiting for this moment for many, many months. We had first heard about a family in a Jordanian refugee camp who wished to give their children a different future. Our refugee sponsorship group had worked out the details of facilitating their arrival over many potluck lunches.  There were inevitable delays, but then the processes moved faster then was expected. We had only a few weeks to prepare, including finding a house and furniture, stocking the pantry, and setting up utilities – in other words, creating a home.

One of my roles, in addition to serving as the pro bono lawyer for the group, was to communicate with the family prior to their arrival. I was fortunate that Rasmi, the father of the family, had intermittent internet access, as well as a cell phone.  We communicated through WhatsApp, with him translating his messages before sending them to me.  This was a process that often left me puzzled; this technology is not quite a babel fish.  But it was enough for us to get to know each other a little, and for me to tell them what to expect when they arrived.  The children often requested that I send them pictures of their new home. 

I would send the children pictures of everyday things, like the bakery section of my grocery store.

Qusai and Majed – photo taken in their home in the refugee camp

Lamis was born in the camp; it was all she had ever known

As the time came closer to their departure, Rasmi spoke more desperately of their situation there. It was very hot, and water was rationed.  Knowing they would soon escape, their living situation became more and more unbearable.

The street outside of the family’s home in the refugee camp

Finally, the day came when they were to arrive. Since they were a family of eight, it took several vehicles to get them to their new home.  They were exhausted after their multiple flights.

The first moment of magic came in the car with Ahed, the eldest daughter. We were pointing out things to her along the way, when I remembered that I’d taken a picture of her room. I showed it to her.  I will never forget the way her eyes lit up.

The room Ahed was to share with her younger sister

The first week was a flurry of activity. The family needed health cards and bank accounts.  They needed to be orientated to their new neighbourhood.  I took them to the park for the first time.  The younger children had never been on swings or a play structure.

Loay on one his first trips to a playground

First trip on the bus

Visiting the Canadian Museum of Nature 

Over the next few months, I had the opportunity to share several other ‘firsts’ with the children. First French fries at McDonald’s.  First time swimming.  The older teens played loud Arabic music on my car stereo when I drove them downtown to see the lights.  ‘Stop!’, Ahed would yell as I crossed the bridge between Québec and Ontario.  She wanted to look longer at the lights reflected on the water.  Her brothers would just laugh at her, knowing I couldn’t just stop and block traffic.

Odai in the playland at McDonald’s

Shortly before Christmas, we had the family over for a traditional halal turkey dinner. Members of the sponsorship group joined us for dessert, where we had a Secret Santa exchange.  We try to be a family for them, because they have left so many of theirs behind.  Only one cousin of Rasmi’s is here in Canada.  Everyone else is still in Syria, or in the refugee camp.

The children are learning English very quickly. It has been harder for Qusai, the oldest child, who is too old for high school and attends adult English language classes.  There are no other young people his age at the school.  We have struggled to find him other opportunities for English immersion with his peers. 

My son Shawn, at a soccer match between his school and Majed’s – Majed’s team beat them handily!

Recently, I had the opportunity to be the guest on the Canadian Immigration Podcast.  This was a follow-up interview to the one we did prior to the family’s arrival.  Prior to the interview, I spoke to Rasmi and his wife Najah, through an interpreter.  Normally our conversations were stilted, using Google Translate and broken English.  This was my first time getting to ask them deeper questions.  I asked Najah whether Canada was what she had hoped it would be.  ‘More’, she said, it had surpassed her expectations.  She gave an example: when the school bus stops, all the traffic stops to let the children get off the bus and cross the street.  Everyone waits.  Everything here is so orderly, and so safe.

Orderly and safe. This was never something that I had thought to appreciate about my country.

If you are interested in sponsoring a refugee family, this resource document will help you get started.  If you are interested in sponsoring family members of Rasmi or Najah, please get in touch with me directly.