The Good News

He was only 6 when mom and dad called him up to tell him the good news, except to him the news would not be good until many years later. Right then and there the “ good news” was terrifying. He was told by his smiling parents that in just a few months he would be packing all of his cherished belongings and giving away everything else. He was told, too, that he would say goodbye to his meticulously decorated room, his cherished toys and worse than all, he would be saying see you later… maybe… to all of his friends and relatives, besides his parents and his sister for they would be moving to the great country of Canada!

This was great news to his parents, who had lived in Vancouver for a few months before he was born and even to his teenage sister, whose dreams to be a writer fit right in with this foreign place even though she had never been there before. But to the little boy “ Canada” meant nothing. He had never heard of such place, well, his family said he did, but his brain could not remember a single instance of hearing that name before and so, to him, he had never heard of it. His face must have shown his confusion for he didn't say a word but his cherished mother asked if he had any questions anyways. Did he have any questions? Probably, but he didnt know which ones. He was a smart kid, above average, people always said, and even he could not form the right combination of words to ask all the questions he was sure he had.

His mom and dad showed him pictures of Vancouver but his little brain was too preoccupied trying to understand the whole concept of “ we are moving to Canada”. His dad said many words but the little boy just agreed without really listening. The parents were worried about his reaction or better said, lack thereof but they kept naming positive things about Canada to calm him down. The little boy didn’t like changes but he was too young to understand that about himself. At some point of the conversation he looked up at the open laptop with images of this new place he was supposed to call home. Then, he saw a big field of white, shinny snow on his dad’s screen. “ We are going to live in a igloo???!” The boy concluded, but said nothing. “ but polar bears are there!! This can’t be safe, right?” But he loves his parents and his parents love him. They would never put him in danger. With this conclusion, he accepted his fate: he would leave his warm and sunny beach city and move to an igloo in this so-called “Canada”.

As the next few months went on, and his treasures were being donated to “ kids that needed it more than him” the little boy’s anxiety grew more and more. He obviously couldn’t take his 155 hotwheels cars to the snow for they wouldn't work there. He not-so-gladly gave them away. He was also worried about his jackets, none of them seemed warm enough to endure penguin temperatures, but he was never a big talker, and again, he trusted his caretakers to keep him warm, (although sometimes he wondered how prepared they were for such drastic temperature change). Maybe he was scared to offend them, maybe he was just too scared to know the answers that he never asked the questions. Regardless of his reasons, there was no way that his family could understand how big the boy’s anxiety had grown.

They knew, of course, that he was anxious, afterall he was just a kid. How could they think to explain that Vancouver has no igloos when that would never cross their minds? Thus, with no concrete evidence of the lack of polar bears in Canada, by the day of the big move, the boy’s anxiety had consumed his every thought, every feeling, every move. Until they all arrived at the airport and he could no longer breathe. PANIC! How could everyone be so calm?? Even his sister, she was only 15 and she was smiling from ear to ear! They were all crazy! That was the only explanation. So in his godmother’s arm, he started to feel warm, he started to shake, he started to cry.

The family, all of which had gone to the airport with them, but only the 4 would take the plane, became increasingly worried. Was he sick? Was he okay to fly? What could they do to help him? His godmother, being a nurse, took him to the airport’s medical centre. The doctors said he was not sick. That was when everyone began to ask him at the same time “ what's wrong? Please tell us whats wrong!” Bombarded with questions the boy finally snapped “ what is wrong with me?? What is wrong with YOU! I don’t want to live in an igloo!!! I don't want to hide from the polar bears and I don't even have a snow jacket!!!”

The whole family started to laugh with relief “ oh sweetie!” His mother said. “ There are no snow igloos in Vancouver and no polar bears, I swear! We will live in an apartment, we will see dogs on the street just like here. Yes, it will be colder but I promise you, we will buy you the warmest jacket you can find as soon as we arrive.” And that is what they did. They showed him pictures of the city, the apartment and the dogs in Canada while they were riding the plane.

He arrived at this new Canada place and everything was different. But not too different. He saw cone-shaped trees instead of palm. He saw the same street signs but these were green, he saw people in the streets, they spoke in a crazy way but the smiled just the same. The kids played with trucks filled with sand and they offered him snacks he had never tried before. He found no strange animals and got many cool jackets. It was never easy, learning a new language, new pathways and new people. But I told you this at the begging, slowly, the news his smiling parents told him that day actually became good news to him too.