16 minute read
If the Shoe Fits
Photo: Cara Archer
Salmon Arm community steps up to support Salvation Army ministry.
by Melissa Yue Wallace
For the third year, the owner of Kintec Salmon Arm, an orthotics and footwear company in British Columbia, collected shoes for distribution through community services at New Hope Community Church.
“The idea was to try to find different ways to give back to the community, and shoes are what I know, so it all just kind of fit,” says Graham Archer. As an extra
Saved Soles Graham Archer poses in front of the shoes he collected for The Salvation Army in Salmon Arm, B.C. David Byers, community services director for the past 19 years, says he was amazed by the number of shoes that Graham brought in. “He had to bring them in two different trucks because there were so many,” he laughs
incentive to his campaign, Graham matches each pair with a one-dollar cash donation.
In 2019, he collected 170 pairs and, in 2020, that number increased to 349 pairs. “It’s great to have com-
munity support,” says Graham. “We doubled the amount we collected, so we’ll see how many shoes are out there in 2021!”
Since moving from Port Coquit-
GRAHAM ARCHER lam, B.C., to Salmon Arm in 2018 for a change in lifestyle and to escape the corporate world, he and his family have enjoyed being a part of a smaller community and have involved themselves with several charitable organizations.
“It’s always been my passion to give back when I can,” he says. His 10- and 13-year-old daughters have developed a similar spirit of generosity, choosing to collect donations instead of presents for their birthdays.
Graham hopes this small effort of collecting donated shoes will make a difference to people in need in some way.
“It’s just one little thing that will allow people to get to the next step in their lives, whatever that may be,” he says.
(left) Melissa Yue Wallace is a journalism graduate and freelance writer who has a passion to help people in need and to encourage the organizations that work tirelessly to care for them. Through her writing, she has raised awareness and funds for earthquake victims in Haiti, orphaned children in South Africa, vulnerable families in Paraguay, people affected by leprosy in India, as well as local organizations in Canada. Melissa lives in Richmond Hill, Ont., with her husband and twin children.
Family Reunion Majors Cecil and Tina Mitchell (left) meet Bernie Cormier and his partner, Lola Ogden, for the first time
An Open Door
HOW A DNA TEST WAS THE MISSING PIECE TO MY FAMILY PUZZLE. by Tina Mitchell
Ialways knew I was adopted. There were no secrets in my family. As an infant, two incredible members of The Salvation Army, William and Laura Moulton from Burin Bay, N.L., took me into their home. I lived most of my life believing God had a special plan for my life because they had chosen me.
I always prayed that, one day, I would meet my birth parents. My adoptive parents—now deceased— had encouraged me to find my biological family since childhood. As I grew older, married and had children of my own, I became more
inquisitive about my birth parents. I had many unanswered questions: I wanted to know where my ancestors were from, find out more information about my genetic makeup and obtain a health history.
While I believe that deciding to trace a birth family is an individual decision, I was hesitant and spent many years contemplating how this decision would impact other lives as well. It’s critical to have a proper support network in place before setting out on this journey.
The Adventure of a Lifetime Through my own research using government adoption records, I was fortunate to track down my birth mother’s family, the Yetmans from Bay Roberts, N.L., about 15 years ago. Sadly, I learned that my birth mother, Margaret Rose, had been tragically killed by a drunk driver when I was four years old. This gave me a greater desire to find the missing piece of the puzzle: my biological father.
That proved to be a time-consuming and difficult process. My birth mother, unable to care for me properly as a young, unwed woman, had placed me for adoption without a word to anyone of my birth father’s name.
Approximately 10 years ago, a colleague suggested I register with an ancestry DNA company, which might provide some links to my past. It was time to walk through the open door from God.
Little did I know that swabbing my cheek could result in family connections across Canada, some with Indigenous roots. I truly began the adventure of a lifetime.
An Extended Family In January 2020, I received an email claiming a significant DNA match had been made. Even though I did not have my birth father’s name, my DNA was matched to one of his sisters who had registered with the same public DNA bank. It was the missing piece that I had long been waiting for. I had been connected with an aunt on my father’s side.
I also received numerous notifications of DNA matches, all stemming from the community of Stephenville, N.L. It seems I had hundreds of second, third and fourth cousins— an entire extended family.
Getting to Know Each Other Of a family of six boys and six girls, Bernard Cormier was the only living brother of my Aunt Hazel, and he had had no idea I existed. Receiving support from my husband, my newly found aunt and my half-sister, God gave me a peace and a strength to telephone “Bernie” with this news.
Bernie’s sister had informed him already of the possible match, and
Connected Hearts “Adoption is a wonderful way to start a family,” says Major Tina, here with her father, Bernie
that one of his daughters was willing to submit her DNA for confirmation.
He was shocked and surprised, but happy. I assured him that I had hoped and prayed that discovering a daughter he never knew existed would not be upsetting to him or his family.
“My darling, it is going to take more than this to upset me!” he lovingly replied. I was struck by this comment. I’ve often said the same thing on numerous occasions.
The conversation was lighthearted and enjoyable. We laughed over the similarities in our voice expressions and looked forward to chatting again soon.
Within a couple of weeks, a DNA match with his daughter revealed we were half-sisters, confirming Bernard Cormier was indeed my father.
His daughter telephoned him with the news, and I talked to him again later that evening. His immediate acceptance was heartwarming and it brought tears to my eyes.
Sensing my tears, he asked, “Are you OK?”
“Yes,” I replied. “My tears are tears
of joy when I realize God’s grace and faithfulness throughout all my life and especially in this moment.”
We both agreed that the events of the past were all a part of God’s perfect plan and that we would spend the rest of our lives enjoying getting to know each other better.
look like me. TINA MITCHELL
A Gift From God With my husband, Cecil, I reunited with my father and his partner, Lola Ogden, in Newfoundland and Labrador in July 2020 during the second wave of the COVID-19 pandemic. I was thrilled when the provincial government granted me permission to travel there for this long-awaited reunion.
It was an amazing experience meeting both the Yetman and Cormier families, the highlight of my life. I now know what it is like to walk into a room full of people who look like me.
When my father and I first embraced, it was an instant family connection, and a sense of comfort and belonging. There was a remarkable resemblance, and why not? I was looking at my own flesh and blood.
Finding my biological family has truly been a gift from God. I have a beautiful new family. My life is now complete.
Today, nearly one year later, my bond is strong with both families. We speak with each other regularly, we text and visit frequently, and we thank God for allowing us to have found each other after 50 years apart.
Adoption is a wonderful way to start a family, and I am blessed to have had this life chosen for me.
(left) Major Tina Mitchell is the corps and community ministries officer at The Salvation Army’s Cedarbrae Community Church in Toronto.
Finding Ezra
WHEN I PRAYED FOR “HELP” THAT MY SON AND HIS WIFE WOULD FIND A BABY TO ADOPT, I HAD NO IDEA THAT GOD WOULD TAKE ME SO LITERALLY. by Phil Callaway
“ARE YOU CATHOLIC OR
Mormon?” people sometimes ask when they discover my wife, Ramona, and I have been blessed with 13 grandkids in five years.
“Neither. We’re exhausted,” I reply. “And very, very happy.”
Of course, no one is more spent than parents who wander about the house saying things like, “Why is it that the people who want to go to bed have to put the people to bed who don’t want to go to bed?”
They do this with a sluggish smile, remembering in their better moments that these kids arrived with God’s fingerprints all over them, and that each has a story, some more intriguing than others.
(left) Holding On Ezra on a “walk” with his parents (right) Where’s Ezra? Ramona and Phil Callaway with 12 of their 13 grandchildren
Home at Last Raelyn and Jeff Callaway with their new arrival, Ezra
Offering a Chance In July 2019, our son, Jeff, and his wife, Raelyn, received the call they’d longed for. Quickly, they arranged babysitting and drove three hours to a restaurant, anxious to meet with the adoption worker and a very pregnant mother who was searching for a family to love her baby.
But as they talked, flags were raised. Red ones. Unsavoury friends. Drug abuse. Impending prison. Believing love that doesn’t make you just a little bit crazy is no love at all, they said yes.
“We have three biological kids,” says Jeff. “But we believe God wanted us to adopt.”
Raelyn agrees. “My sister, Mya, was adopted from China. So adoption has always been something that’s on our hearts.”
As the due date neared and the papers were signed, more questions surfaced. Most weeks, Raelyn faithfully drove six hours each way for prenatal appointments. Twice, the mother didn’t show up. “Could you be there when he’s born?” she asked one day. “I have no one.” Raelyn held her hand and said yes.
Day Eight My daughter-in-law coached and prayed and celebrated when the precious little guy finally arrived, all short, dark and handsome. Jeff held him every chance he got. Photos were sent to family and friends, cheerleaders and babysitters.
“Pray,” Raelyn begged. “The mother is angry. And high as a kite. They keep calling security.”
A nurse confided: “He’s the most addicted baby we’ve ever seen in the
JEFF CALLAWAY
NICU.”
Jeff and Raelyn stayed at a nearby
hotel, and learned how to administer doses of morphine every four hours. Though the mother was headed for jail, she kept threatening to take her baby back. By law, she had 10 days to revoke her consent.
And on day eight, she did.
Devastated and numb, Jeff and Raelyn returned home. Before they arrived, we removed a colourful welcome-home poster we’d worked on with their kids, who were five, three and two. They couldn’t understand. Nor could we.
Three days later the birth mom begged them to take him back. They did.
Ten days later, she again revoked her consent.
Unbearable Heartache A Walmart parking lot may not be the holiest place on earth, but it was a cathedral that day.
Ramona and I stood in a puddle of shattered dreams, arms around our dazed and heartbroken children, crying like little kids, and me praying my favourite prayer: “Help!”
Jeff prayed the same words I’d
prayed for their almost-son, “The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face to shine upon you and give you peace.”
You try to shield those you love from unbearable heartache. Yet sometimes you’re surprised at their resilience, grateful they’re an improvement on you.
“Let’s Go” Nine days later, the phone buzzed. A teen had given birth. She wanted her baby boy placed in a Christian home. In the country. One with siblings. “You guys are our only option,” the lady from the agency smiled.
“It was the most insane moment of my life,” says Raelyn. “We were in the middle of harvest. I was cooking supper for 10 guys on the crew. The van was loaded with kids and enough food for an army. I called Jeff but the cell coverage was bad.”
Jeff laughs. “All I heard was, ‘Baby. Hospital. We have to go.’ I freaked out.”
When Raelyn jumped from the van, she yelled, “There’s a baby waiting. Let’s go.”
One Year Later Like eager kids on Christmas morning, the two rallied family to babysit and took off.
“We were so excited,” recalls Raelyn. “A social worker sent us a picture. He had the cutest cheeks.” With the birth mom eager to leave the next morning, they were asked to name him. “I just happened to bring a list of baby names we liked,” says Raelyn.
The birth mom was peaceful, kind and grateful. As they talked, she said, “I can’t believe I found you.”
They pulled out the list. “Would you help us name him?” Jeff asked.
Her eyes scanned the baby names and stopped. “I love that one, too,” she said. “Ezra.”
A judge would reject the adoption twice and offer the birth father the opportunity to contest it. He didn’t.
“We were called to this together,” says Jeff. “We were on the same page. We didn’t fear losing him.”
Surrounded by Love Ezra with some of his brand-new family. From left, Andrey, Sophia, Ezra, Myah, Claira and Macy
One year from the day we stood in that Walmart cathedral, Ezra’s adoption was finalized in court.
“Help” Today, as we visit, six-year-old Sophia feeds him, comforts him and soothes him with loud country music. Macy, aged three, dresses him funny, and shows him how to hold a kitten. Claira, four, is convinced that her brother came straight from heaven via the front door. It’s hard to disagree.
Jeff and Raelyn are not naive enough to think that all will come up roses from here to eternity. But they believe God never calls us without equipping us, and they have a message for those who are hunkered down, waiting and hurting and praying and hoping: Don’t give up.
“God’s schedule seems so much slower than mine,” Jeff admits. “But all along, we clung to the seemingly ridiculous notion that He was working even this together for our good. So we just tried to take the next right step.”
As for what they would tell adoptive parents, the two say in unison: “You’re awesome!”
As Grandpa, it is my duty to bounce this laughing little boy on my knee. “This is the way the Ezra rides ….”
And, suddenly, I’m laughing, too.
You see, Ezra is the Hebrew word for “help.” When I prayed for “help,” I had no idea God would take me so literally.
Grampa Time Phil and Ezra
On Duty Just one of the amazing volunteers and staff who daily meet the needs of the most vulnerable at Prince George Community Church
Stories of Serving
THE SALVATION ARMY PRINCE GEORGE COMMUNITY CHURCH PROVIDES COMFORT, HOPE AND FRIENDSHIP. by Melissa Yue Wallace
One evening last winter, Salvation Army pastor Major Neil Wilkinson noticed a car parked in the lot of the Army’s Prince George Community Church in British Columbia. It was cold and late, so he tapped on the window and met John.*
Prior to moving to Prince George, John lived in a small community in northern British Columbia. Facing dwindling job prospects, he packed all of his belongings and drove to the city to look for work. Unfortunately, opportunities passed him by, and he could not afford housing. But he preferred the comfort of living in his vehicle to staying in a shelter.
“John’s immediate concern was whether he could sleep in his car on our lot,” recalls Major Neil. “He didn’t need anything, only permission to use our property.” In response, Major Neil gave him an electric heater and an extension cord from the thrift store and plugged it into the church, so John could stay warm and safe without running his engine at night.
To this day, John and Major Neil continue to get to know each other, and John keeps watch over the church building at night.
“Sometimes the kindness of Jesus that we show is honouring the choices people make while loving
unconditionally,” says Major Neil who, along with his wife, Major Crystal, have pastored at the Prince George Community Church for 10 years. The ministry serves people of all ages through its thrift store, food bank, recycling depot and other programs.
The following are stories of how the Army brings hope to people such as John who come for help.
S.O.U.L. Mate When Sonya,* 15, first came to the Army, she didn’t have many friends.
She came from a broken family with a father who had abandoned her and her mother. She joined the Army’s S.O.U.L. (Serving Only U Lord) dance group, where she not only found God but also a creative outlet for worship and family.
“It’s fun and gives me something to do,” she says. “Sometimes, life is really hard and my friends at S.O.U.L. help me cope.”
“Sometimes the kindness of Jesus that we show is honouring the choices people make while loving unconditionally.” MAJOR NEIL WILKINSON
Life Changer Beth* retired early as a health-care worker after suffering with her own health concerns. She suddenly found herself lacking meaningful activities to fill her days, so she came to The Salvation Army to explore volunteer opportunities. Beth now spends three days a week volunteering in the food bank, repackaging bulk food items for distribution to people in need.
“Even though I don’t get to see the faces of the people that we are supporting, I find so much joy in knowing that the work I’m doing is changing lives. Best of all, the Army makes provisions for my disability so that I can serve every week.”
Not Just Words The Army has walked with David* through many seasons of life. “The difference with The Salvation Army is that they care about you—not just with their words,” he says. “It’s great to be able to meet with the chaplain, talk about the stresses of life and find support to make little changes.”
After years of regular visits, this January marked the first month he didn’t need to visit the food bank at all. But he still keeps in touch with the Army to let everyone know how he’s doing.
*Names and identifying details have been changed for privacy.
