Written by a parent for parents of children with epilepsy, Nonverbal Learning Disorder, Autism Spectrum Disorders,
learning disabilities and other special and additional needs.
About forty years ago the Church of the Holy Trinity had a new linoleum floor installed. According to my father, it was a huge project with the parishioners literally doing all of the heavy lifting. All 30 or more pews were unscrewed from the floor, lifted onto dollies and dragged around the corner to the church library to be stacked and stored until the floor was redone. The job took a couple of weeks and so the Sunday church services were scheduled to take place in the church hall. At the first one the rector at that time, Father John Prince, declared it to be “the best service that we’ve ever had”! The cost of the floor was more than the church had then but he preached a sermon that resonated with the congregation and the money appeared. The linoleum floor lasted for years eventually needing to be taped in certain high traffic areas; it was cracked, dull, old and worn. But over the years that floor had known the tread of many feet: weddings, funerals, baptisms, confirmations, Sunday services, Christmas pageants and Easter celebrations too. Flower petals, ashes, candle wax and tears had dotted the floor along with the innumerable rain drops, snowflakes and debris that floors can gather.
The floor needed replacement after all those years and this last month it was redone. This also was a huge venture for our parish but fortunately we had help with the heavy lifting. A local contractor and his team assisted us. It still took an enormous effort on the part of parishioners to make this floor a reality. And we also had to have wonderful services in the church hall; close, cozy but wonderful nonetheless. So now we have a a new epoxy floor: bright, clean, colourful and hard-wearing. (And as our daughter found out at the Easter Vigil, it’s fire resistant!) There will be years and years of Sundays and other days: celebrations, funerals, petals and ashes; God is with us always, regardless of where we are.
When I was a child we moved around a lot. We immigrated to Trois-Rivieres, Quebec from England when I was a toddler and my brother was a baby. Later we moved to other cities in Quebec where my younger brother and my sister were born. We then moved to Ohio for a few years and then back to Canada to live on the West Island of Montreal. There we adopted another sister. From there I moved south and the rest of my family moved west to Alberta and then Saskatchewan before landing in B.C.. There were still more local moves after that and I ended up here too.
I knew that when I had my daughters that I would want them to be able to stay in one place, if possible. They have both lived within several miles of the hospital that they were born in, their entire lives. We have attended the same church for most of their lives. They only have a second family doctor because the doctor that delivered them retired. They have only known one pharmacist and photos of their little faces are still taped up on the pharmacy fridge door, vestiges of past Christmas card photos. They've had the same wonderful dentist all their lives. They attended one elementary school and one high school. And to top it all off, they have more than a dozen aunts and uncles and several dozen cousins living in the Lower Mainland. It's amazing!
The value of this security and familiarity is immense to me having never grown up with the constant presence of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. We were it. Friends were made, lasting friendships endured but family was across an ocean regardless of where in North America we were. I missed those connections. I finally have an amazing cousin and his Canadian wife close by with whom I can share family history. I feel blessed that my daughters have the opportunity that many take for granted. They can say: This is where I am from. This has always been my home. And whether they choose to remain here or not, that will always be true. Here they are home again.
I love the quiet of snow, the silence buffeted by all that flakey, freezing white; I am drawn in by that cocoon of pillowy coldness. I just want to fill up my bird feeders, make some popcorn, put on my jammies and watch a great movie.…The shoveling can happen later. Staying inside is what it’s all about!
When I was a little girl though, the sight of the snow made me want to get bundled up in my snowsuit, force my double socked feet into my boots and waddle outside. Of course I would be back inside five minutes later to go to the bathroom and have to peel it all off and then get suited up all over again. And forget it if I slipped outside and fell; I was there until some kindly soul helped me up (usually a brother). Then it was all about being outside! Winters in Montreal felt endless; the snow drifts were as high as the roof!
Now as an old lady, and living in B.C., I am quite happy to be just a witness to the wonderful whiteness outdoors. A slip on the ice years ago and the resulting fracture has made me leery of icy sidewalks and uncleared walkways; it’s safer indoors. And it’s infinitely, completely and utterly much more beautiful outside in the lovely, pure white snow. The shoveling can wait!
Our eldest daughter was walking two dogs when one of them, her mini Irish doodle Stella had an interaction with another off leash dog. This caused our daughter to drop her leash and for Stella to take off down the street, dragging it as she went. Our daughter had a small injury on her hand but she and the dog's owner ran off to find her. Stella ran down a busy street and turned the corner and kept running. Then she turned another corner and kept going. Eventually apparently she crossed the street and scratched at the door where another of our daughter's dog sitting friends lived. Unbeknownst to all of us, this little Bichon-Shih Tzu cross named Meisha let her owner know that Stella was at the door and they let her in. Meanwhile our daughter had called me on the phone, out of breath and with her hand bleeding. She and the other dog’s owner continued to look for Stella. I ran out of our house and while she secured the third dog, a cute little mini Bernadoodle named Buddy, I started to track Stella using the Apple tag on her collar. I was also hollering Stella at the top of my lungs, having what a friend wittily described as a "Tennessee Williams" moment. Eventually Meisha's human ran out to the end of her driveway to let me know that Stella was safely in her house. All the dogs were reunited with their people and all was well. To make a short story tedious, we did have to find a local and available tetanus shot (Safeway has them) and our daughter was late for work. There were however several valuable lessons to be learned from all this running, panting and shouting:
1. Praying is important and should be done even if at the same time you are running like an idiot down the street with one eye on your iPhone and one eye on the road, shouting your dog's name. Multitasking at its best!
2. Never underestimate the ability of dogs, no matter how cute and small, to help us humans look after them. Perhaps they actually look after us?!
3. In times of need, dogs never forget a friend even if its been months since they've last seen one another. Perhaps we could learn a lesson from our pets in this regard!?
4. Technology is great but in the end, in this case anyway, success was achieved as a result of plain old-fashioned neighbourliness and friendship. Oh, and don't forget prayer!
White Rock Anglican Church celebrates a century of faith and community
White Rock parish balances tradition with inclusivity, offering resources and connection for all
Holy Trinity has long been known for its commitment to Anglican liturgy, offering worship grounded in tradition, scripture, reason and community connection. Photo courtesy of The Church of the Holy Trinity.
Holy Trinity Anglican Church in White Rock stands as both a spiritual and community hub, with a rich 100-year history with a forward-looking approach that welcomes people from all walks of life. With its robust liturgical practices and community outreach programs, the church is a vibrant centre of connection in White Rock.
“Our church is active and growing,” says The Rev. Joseph Dirbas, rector of Holy Trinity. “We’re doing a lot to connect with the community and expand our programs, especially for children, youth and families. It’s exciting to see how much we can do together.”
“We’re doing a lot to connect with the community and expand our programs, especially for children, youth and families. It’s exciting to see how much we can do together," says The Rev. Joseph Dirbas, rector of Holy Trinity. Photo courtesy of The Church of the Holy Trinity.
Music at the heart of worship
One of the church’s notable recent steps has been hiring a music director to elevate Holy Trinity’s music ministry. This new director leads the choir, prepares anthems and performs special pieces, including solos, during services.
“It’s a big step in making music a more central part of our worship and community events,” says Dirbas, noting the new music director, Maria Golas, is also a member of the Vancouver Chamber Choir, bringing added expertise to the role.
Tradition meet progress
Holy Trinity has long been known for its commitment to Anglican liturgy, offering worship grounded in tradition, scripture, reason and community connection. However, the church is socially progressive, welcoming members of the LGBTQ+ community and others who may have felt excluded elsewhere.
“We host many events like neighbourhood gatherings, a monthly Evensong service, and even a Christmas Market coming up on Nov. 30,” says The Rev. Joseph Dirbas, rector of Holy Trinity. Photo courtesy of The Church of the Holy Trinity.
“We balance being liturgically traditional with being inclusive and socially progressive,” Dirbas says. “People can come and be accepted as they are while learning about scripture and discipleship. We engage deeply with the community and strive to embody Christ’s example of loving all people.”
Beyond Sunday services, Holy Trinity Anglican Church opens its doors to the broader community. It hosts an array of activities such as yoga classes, Seniors Lunches, Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, food bank collections and Bible studies.
“We host many events like neighbourhood gatherings, a monthly Evensong service, and even a Christmas Market coming up on Nov. 30,” Dirbas says. “It’s all part of living out our mission statement: “In Christ, we are a growing community, welcoming others to join us on our faith journey."
The church is also a local resource hub that provides support for homeless individuals and families. “We share our space with Sources because it’s about putting the gospel into action,” Dirbas explains. “We respect the dignity of all people and want to share the joy and love of Christ with everyone.”
Dirbas, who immigrated to Canada with his wife – a fellow Anglican priest – and their five children in late 2021, feels deeply connected to Holy Trinity’s mission. “I love seeing the gospel put into action,” he says. “It’s a joy to guide this community, working together to live out our faith and make a difference.”
I remember a Christmas when I lived in Louisiana and I was gifted with a beautiful nativity set. It was ceramic and a copy of the one owned by my mother-in-law who was a lovely and generous woman. Hers was painted and vibrant in its colours and detail. I opted for the unpainted white version which has been with me every Christmas since I have been an adult. It has always been my favourite I suppose because we have travelled many miles together over many, many years. As a “cradle Anglican” the Christmas story is not new to me. I do not remember seeing a nativity scene in my family’s home when I was a child however. Since the acquisition of my very own nativity set, they have become a favourite of mine; a way of recognizing the true message of Christmas. Don’t get me wrong; I like the Santas and the snowmen, the carols and the candy canes, the stockings and the snowflakes. It is a wonderful time of year for me and I love it all. However I do find that the nativity reminds us all of the why behind this time of year: the reason for the season, keeping the Christ in Christmas, if you will.
I remember that when our eldest was a toddler how important it was to me to find a durable, unbreakable nativity scene that our daughter could play and engage with, and in turn learn the story of the baby Jesus. And I did find one; mostly cloth but simple and colourful and one that she now cherishes and I take great pleasure in displaying every December.
Our church is doing a display of our parishioners’ nativity scenes. They will be on display during our Christmas Market at the end of the month. I am really looking forward to it and can’t wait to see all the variety and diversity of the many representations of the birth of Jesus over two thousand years ago. This story truly is what Christmas is all about.
We are blessed with two wonderful, smart, caring, considerate daughters. They are adults now but there are still moments when looking at them that I catch a glimpse of the fun and fantastically funny little people they were once upon a time about two decades ago. And as much as I loved our lives when they were fresh on the planet, I also love knowing these two amazing, incredible and kind young women, right here, right now. And I would not change that for anything. It never fails to amaze me however, how much we are ourselves our whole life through. And I am astonished at how much we forever look like ourselves as well. The essence of who we are is always there. I can look at my eldest daughter’s hands and still see the little tiny hands that they used to be twenty years ago. And they're still busy, active, hard-working hands. Sometimes my youngest daughter will give a laugh that reminds me of the giggles we heard from her when she was a little girl; she's still mischievous. These young women are the same as they always were but different too: grown up. Sometimes I miss those little voices, those tiny hands and small feet. Life seemed simpler then; our problems were easier, the world a bit safer. Our daughters were there with us always and we could hold them. Now they are out in the world every day and it’s harder to protect them, even if we could. Life is that story; the growing up, the moving out, the moving on, the ebb and flow of human existence. And amongst it all is that beautiful crazy lovely funny thing we call parenthood. What a blessing!
