Excerpt
In the early 1950s, Parede and the Avenue of Princes saw an influx
of foreign ambassadors. The American ambassador and his son became
Ken’s new neighbours and the Portuguese ambassador to the United
States, who had a son and daughter, bought a summer home nearby.
One day the Portuguese ambassador invited Ken to a garden party
with the lure of a special surprise. On the day of the party, Ken dressed in
his best clothes and wandered across the lawns where uniformed waiters
glided by with trays of iced lemonade, and platters of seafood, and exotic
fruits.
When the ambassador found Ken, he took him by the arm and led him
across the lawn to where another gentleman was standing, holding a frosty
glass. “I want to introduce you,” he said. “This is Monsieur Desjardines. He
is the Canadian ambassador to Portugal. You’re so fascinated with Canada
and the Arctic – it’s all I hear you talk about – so, here is the man!”
Ken’s mind fell into instant turmoil. There was so much he wanted to
ask, but before he even began to marshal his thoughts he blurted out, “I
want to be a Canadian.”
“You want to be a Canadian?” the ambassador smiled.
“Absolutely,” Ken said. “I want to be a Canadian.”
“What on earth makes you want to be a Canadian? What do you know
about Canada?”
“My friend Francisco, who lives on the beach, tells me stories.” And he
repeated some of Francisco’s tales of whaling, and the Arctic, and life with
the Eskimos.
“That’s where I want to go,” he said. “I want to go to the North. I want
to be one of those people.”
“One of the people who live in the Arctic?”
“Yes. I want to be a Canadian.”
“There are many Canadians that live all across the country,” the ambassador
explained.
“I want to be one of those that live in the North,” Ken said.
“Oh! You want to be an Eskimo!”
“Yes!”
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