It’s winter, and a thick layer of ice forms a bridge between the island and the mainland. The inhabitants take advantage of it to drive to Winnipeg to stock up on gas, food, clothing and supplies for the next three seasons.
A new day begins at St. Theresa Point, and Roy’s words are still dancing around in my head, in a kind of mysterious choreography of love for humankind. School has been cancelled today. A woman from the community died on Monday, and they have come together to mourn her. As they say, “When we were born, there was no school.” So when people die, there’s no school either.
Every morning in this community, Breakfast Club of Canada helps feed 1,200 children and youth at the elementary and secondary level. Today, there won’t be any breakfast served at the school, and that’s all right. The people are standing together. The needs of the community outweigh those of the individual.
The notion of time is not the same here. It’s time to go to school when the sun peeks over the rooftops, and it’s time to go home when the sun sets on the horizon. The school is a community centre, a meeting place, a place to grow.
It’s winter, and a thick layer of ice forms a bridge between the island and the mainland. The inhabitants take advantage of it to drive to Winnipeg to stock up on gas, food, clothing and supplies for the next three seasons. When spring comes, the island will once again be isolated. So they have to think ahead. Can you imagine having to buy provisions for a whole year in advance? The people here say you get used to it. And what an inspirational people they are!