Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines

All that from a simple canned-good..
by
                  Dolorès Robillard Benoit

En français

I was about 9 years old at the end of the war (WWII); I lived in Montreal and the religious sisters had asked us to bring food in order to send it to children living in Europe who were living at that moment in villages ravaged by war. We could bring any non-perishable items.

My mother had prepared several canned-goods to send over there. Since my mother always had special ideas, she had glued a tag on each of the cans on which she had written my name and address.

Several weeks later, what to my surprise I received a letter from a little girl from Coutances in Normandy thanking me for my gift.

This young girl and I corresponded for many years but our letter writing diminished a bit to finally stop completely at the time of our marriages. Around 1960, I received a letter from the Canadian Embassy telling me that a young girl from Normandy was looking for me. Imagine my surprise to find out that she had given my whereabouts to the Embassy and the personnel there was able to find me thanks to my parents who were still living in Montreal.

We resumed our correspondance in a nicer way for several years, but as we both began to be really busy with our children, little by little our letter writing diminished once more a few years later.

On the occasion of a trip to Paris in 1990, I was able to retrace her and to speak to her mother but at that time, my friend was on a trip herself. In 1992, she and her husband visited Quebec; they, in turn, tried to find me but they had forgotten the name of my husband and did not know the name of the town where I lived at that time; it was a lost cause. They had hoped that their stay in Quebec would have been able to reunite us finally because we had never seen each other except through photos.

I have never forgotten my young French frien and often as I looked at the souvenirs which she had sent to me during that time and that I had always kept, I would ask myself if there was a way to retrace her in order to find out what happened to her.

Las week, I had an idea which I now consider a "bright idea". Since I knew that she had been a teacher just like her husband in a little town in Normandy, I thought about sending an email to those in charge of the cathedral in that town. And ... the day after, I received an answer from her husband who told me that by pure chance, he was the a great friend of the pastor of this cathedral and this pastor quickly called him to dispatch my email.

Can you image my joy of being able to take up again contact with this young girl, who, like I am, is now a grandmother!

I am certain that she always thought about that young Quebecoise who had sent her canbed-goods with her name written on a tag. Her husband knew about the canned-goods and of our letter writing during our youth.

What a pleasure it is for me now to tell to my children and my grandchildren this little story of a simple canned-good which crossed the oceans to form a friendship which has lasted more than 60 years.

Késsinnimek - Roots - Racines
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Created 1 Feb 2003