Heartwarming Canadians


Anyone else feel extraordinarily proud of our Canadian brethren at the Oilers hockey game on Sunday night? How about the singing of the two national anthems performed by 18,000 hockey fans? When Brett Kissel asked the fans in the stadium to sing the American anthem I thought it might be a half-hearted effort at best. The spectators were outstanding; they honoured our American counterparts with solid performance without even having the words up on the screen. Watching them belt our own anthem was heart-warming too. But nothing compared to the way my heart blew up watching the fans sing the American anthem. So proud, Canadians showed their class. We may want to crush them in hockey but we respect them as a country. I won’t comment on the following game— However, come Wednesday night— bring it all Oilers!

Canadians are known for their kindness and inclusion. Sunday night gave me one more reason to be a proud Canadian. I know other countries make fun of us for being nice, but there’s nothing wrong with a little please and thank you. Our world-renowned benevolence only serves to enhance our travel experience.

“Are you an American?” growls the citizen from any other country in the world.

“No, I’m Canadian.”

The citizen from anywhere in the world smiles, “ How wonderful. I’ve always wanted to meet a Canadian, I hear you smell like cotton Candy, and fart unicorn fluff. Come and stay with us. Perhaps you would like our first born to bring home with you? He could stand to learn some manners.”

Maybe Canadians are overly polite, and maybe it is associated with weakness. Wrong assumption, good manners demonstrate kick butt confidence.

“How are you?”

“I’m wonderful!“

“Never mind about me, what about you?”

“Please, you go first. I like to help those who struggle under the weight of a door.” Manners are having consideration for others around you. Please does not mean, I am weak and unimportant. I need help. It means I sure appreciate your comradery. After all we are fellow humans supplying mosquitoes with blood each year, we may as well be pleasant.

Thank you means, I appreciate what you have done.

Excuse me means, I recognise your importance, I will put aside my own, in order to validate you. Lets cooperate, and then frolic in a field of dandelions.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I butt in line? Go ahead, please.”

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry. “ says the smiling Canadian. We are not apologising for existing. We are sorry for you, because your day is going so poorly, when we are doing so incredibly well.

I am sorry, I wish you could have a life like me.

I am Canadian, and despite our politician’s efforts to make us miserable— We Rock.

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