Dear People, Neighbours, and Friends of St. Thomas’s,
Even though we have not yet laid down a single area rug or hung a single picture in this beautifully renovated rectory, we decided last Saturday that we could not ignore the glorious weather, particularly since we had no idea how many warm days we might have between now and next spring. So we set aside the constant nagging pressure to forge onward with unpacking and settling in, knowing that we would indeed get the house organized to our standards … eventually, and did something uncharacteristically spontaneous: we took a family bike ride.
Of course, “spontaneous” in our house means something other than what it might mean in yours. Before we had children, “spontaneous” meant deciding on something on the spur of the moment, putting on one’s shoes, making sure we had our wallet and keys, and leaving within a few minutes, ready for adventure. In our case, it was lunchtime, and by the time we had settled as a family on a bike ride rather than a leisurely stroll, we first set the children to doing a bit more of their weekend homework for forty-five minutes whilst Anne and I got the bikes ready for their first collective outing. Margaret’s tires needed a bit more air, I had not used my bike since before the pandemic, and Andrew’s bike was a loaner from a very thoughtful parishioner, so we needed to adjust the seat to his height, which seems to have changed quite recently. (I’m told this happens when one is twelve.)
Margaret’s tires were easily inflated, but it took not one but two different bicycle pumps to rehabilitate both of the (very) flat tires on my own bicycle. And lest you get the wrong idea, it was Anne who operated both of those pumps while I edited the draft of the Thurible, sitting on a flattened cardboard box on the basement floor.
Finally, after adjusting our shiny new helmets (mine is red) and packing up our new bike locks, we were ready to head up to the Baldwin Steps, where thankfully we spotted a bike rack in a parkette just across the street. That freed us to climb the steps and enjoy the view of downtown and the CN Tower from the top, and of what we assumed was Lake Ontario in the hazy distance.
We walked around a bit, gawking at Casa Loma and peeking at Spadina House, taking photos of the architecture and flora. Finally, having listened to Margaret and Andrew make up stories about how the CN Tower was in fact the monument to a hamburger impaled on a javelin, we mounted our bicycles and coasted home. Anne had not realized that we had been cycling uphill on the way to the steps, but as someone who hadn’t been on a bike for more than a few minutes for well over a year and a half, that fact had certainly not escaped me. (Every time I genuflected on Sunday, in fact, the corporal mortification I felt reminded me of this painful fact.)
We were all so grateful for the family time together outdoors, exploring our new home. In this time when we have simultaneously too much to do and too little we are allowed to do, it was important for us as a family to remember to celebrate what we do have, to be attentive to each other, and to give thanks.
On this, our first Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, my family and I want to express how thankful we are to God and to you for the many blessings we have received at your hands. From the minute we set foot in the lovely rectory we now call home, these past twelve weeks have been filled with abundant reasons to be thankful.
Your love for Toronto and eagerness to share its delights also shine through in the resources you have made available, some of which are pictured and linked to below. We are grateful for the many ways you have introduced us to our new home and provided guides that we will be able to use for years to come as we continue to get to know this place and its delights. Some day, we hope to possess a fraction of the knowledge of this wonderful city that so many of you do, as we look forward to introducing friends and family to Toronto
Anne, Margaret, Andrew, and I give thanks every day for the happy home we are so privileged to occupy. It was built for entertaining, and we so look forward to opening the rectory for your enjoyment as well as our own delight. As of this writing, we still have yet to lay down any rugs or hang up any pictures. But the rectory will eventually be ready to receive guests and visitors, and the circumstances will some day permit gathering without undue concern for anyone’s health. When that day comes, we will be thankful indeed for the opportunity to get together indoors, particularly when we will be disinclined to be outdoors. Thankfully, I am, as my wife calls me, an “avid indoorsman,” so I look forward to sharing that aspect of our life with you, as well.
Yours in Christ’s service,
