The Street - A Composite Sketch (24)

Not a very long street, just off a major arterial, it is shaped like a question mark. At the conclusion of the bulge it meanders into another street. One half of the street backs onto a heavily wooded ravine, a neighbourhood treasure, though few of the street's residents quite recognize its value, nor make use of its propinquity. It cleanses the air everyone breathes, it hosts birds and wildlife and presents a treasury of wildflowers throughout the seasons. At one time the street, part of a larger suburban community, shared a small-town address. It has long since been subsumed into the greater national capital of the country, through a wide-ranging amalgamation of communities and even farms. The street and the houses on it were built two and a half decades ago. The domiciles are comprised mostly of single-family, detached dwellings, with a handful of semis verging on the main thoroughfare. Many of the residents are the original home purchasers. They would comprise roughly 50% of the residents of the street. The semis appear to have changed hands far more often than the detached homes. And those homes that have been re-sold have often enjoyed a succession of owners. The original home owners who moved into their houses when their children were small have mostly bid farewell to now-grown children. The street represents an amalgam of family types, and there is a significant percentage at this time, of retired people, singly and in couples who, though their houses are meant for family occupation, still opt to remain in their too-large, but comfortable and familiar and valued homes. It is a very quiet street, with little traffic other than those who live there. The house fronts are diverse, and attractive. Most residents take care of their homes, seeing them as their primary investments. Furnaces have been replaced, and air conditioners, and also windows. Kitchens and bathrooms have been remodelled, and people have added decks and occasionally airy 'summer houses' to the backs of their homes. One-third of the homes boast swimming pools, in-ground and above-ground. Most people take pride in their properties, and feel they must achieve lawns that are weedless and smoothly green. Some painstakingly remove weeds by hand in the spring, others hire lawn-care companies to spread chemicals on their lawns. Invariably, the people who look after their own gardens and lawns have superior gardens and lawns. Each house has a large tree planted in front; maples, ash,crabapples, spruce or pine, fully mature. This is a community that is truly mixed, representing people from around the world, come to Canada as immigrants, settled and making the most of opportunities open to all its citizens in a free and open society noted for its pluralism and dedication to fair representation. There are the extroverts and the introverts, those who prefer not to mingle, others who do. They are herewith loosely sketched:

This is the Twenty-fourth part of the anatomy of The Street.

They thought that would be the perfect location for them, and so they bought their new house on the new street. They were local businesspeople, their flourishing small-motor business located nearby on the main street that this new street began on. Just a few blocks separated their business from their new house. Franco-Ontarians, they were long established in the area. Selling things like snow blowers and throwers, and lawn mowers, and repairing all manner of small motors. Just recently they had expanded their business, introducing marine motors and small motorboats.

They settled well into their new home, quickly established very good relations with their near neighbours. Extended the courtesy of friendliness to other neighbours not living in close proximity, but whom they would meet on occasion, walking up to the top of the street right beside the entrance to the ravine where the group mailboxes were located. They were both down-to-earth people, their two sons long left the nest, and quite occupied with their business. As matters transpired, however, his rheumatoid arthritis became a real problem, and he was no longer easily able to climb stairs in their two-story house, so it was put up for sale.

Into the house moved a recombined family. He also a Franco-Ontarian, a young man whose first marriage had ended. But his two teen-age daughters were with him; his marriage ended with the death of their mother, from breast cancer. His wife was from the Maritimes where he had been posted and where they had met. Her marriage too had ended. The father of her four children had simply walked out. He worked for the Department of National Defence, and had the rank of corporal. He is latterly working on his Master's Degree, writing a thesis on unconventional warfare; bacterial and chemical weaponry.

She worked for a non-profit agency, an NGO that delivered aid and social services to under-developed countries. Her work took her often to countries like Bolivia, Nicaragua, and Guatemala. Which was where she met her husband. She had sponsored him as a landed immigrant to Canada, which was where their three younger children were born. Their son, the oldest, was born in Guatemala, and when her posting there had concluded they moved to Canada. Where in quick succession, three daughters were born. Now, she lived in their new house on the street with her new husband, his two daughters, and her four children.

The two older girls were seldom seen outside the house; both were busy attending university. Hard to believe he was the father of two university students, he looked so fit, so young, healthy and handsome. As for her children, they were the most cherubic-appearing, sweet mannered and friendly children the street had ever seen. New to the street, the three little girls, then four, six and eight, made a point, hand in hand, of approaching each new neighbour they saw out in the garden or walking on the street, to introduce themselves. Their brother was not quite so forward; he waited until he was approached.

They soon made themselves entirely comfortable although they did admit they missed their maternal grandparents dreadfully, still back in the Maritimes. They adjusted well to their new school, and made friends easily. Including friendship with the little boy and girl living across the street and the littler boy and girl also directly across the street. The children would often be seen playing on the street - good thing it was such a quiet street; only vehicular traffic represented by residents used the street - playing hopscotch or skipping rope, or street hockey, or their version of soccer.

Once, the three sisters who shared with their brother a lovely dark hued skin colour and thick, dark brown curly hair, were crushed when the older little girl from across the street whispered to them that the younger children living next door to her, the half-Cuban children, had told her not to play with those "niggers". The elderly neighbour to whom they confided this was shocked. Particularly given the Cuban mother's own robust colouration, inherited by her children, a mere shade or two slither than that of the Guatemalen children.

She advised them to steer clear of the children who had insulted the splendour of their inheritance. But children manage to overcome difficulties that adults feel dreadfully disturbed by, advising avoidance. Somehow, between them, they managed to talk things out, and peaceful relations were resumed. They grew older together, learned to get along very well with one another. They did not all attend the same schools, but living on the same street gave them a social investment in one another.

The mother had a friend who lived close by, who had no children of her own, who was happy to come along and help when she had to travel and leave all of the children in the care of her husband. For the most part, however, the mother worked from home. Only occasionally going off for week-long trips to Bolivia and other South American countries, for her work. When she left her children in her husband's care she was assured they were left in capable hands. He was patient and good-tempered with them, but when he insisted it was bedtime they listened to him, only groaning slightly about the nuisance of it all.

They have a semi-large female dog, part boxer, a dog that emotes quite intelligently. She is the pet of the entire family. The girls take turns with their brother, their mother and their father taking the dog out for walks. Seldom in the ravine, just for jaunts around the neighbourhood. The girls and their brother do, themselves on occasion, venture into the ravine to play and to walk about; less frequently as they grow older and find other things to amuse themselves with. The house has an in-ground pool in the back, and they use it often, in the summer months.

They're a lovely family, an excellent addition to the street. It's amazing to see how quickly the children mature. They know everyone on the street, and unlike some of the other children who live there, they cheerfully acknowledge everyone with a wave and a huge smile. Actually, like their parents in that respect. The mother has confided to one of her neighbours how troubled her children are about their absent father. Although, she hastens to add, they love their step-father, it upsets them that their father left them.

It particularly upsets her son. Who has attempted to contact his father, only to be rebuffed by him. He is patterning himself well, she said, on his step-father, but it does remain a concern, that he has suffered a psychic trauma they all must deal with. This is a boy who offers himself as a volunteer to collect food or clothing for the needy in the area. He is sensitive, sensible, and highly intelligent. A credit to his upbringing and his parents. A tribute to their patient love for him.

He has befriended an older boy on the street who is learning disabled, and spends time with him on occasion, because the older boy is always at loose ends, feeling lonely and looking for company. It's a bonus that this family resides on that street.

c. 2009 Rita Rosenfeld