Sorry for the pause in blogs...I've been out door-knocking a lot lately and the weeks have slipped by. I wanted to share a couple of stories from the doorstep. I hope they build a more complete and complex picture of Edmonton-Glenora and encourage you, in this season of charity and faith, to dare to look a little more closely and more compassionately at the people in our community. Quite often, we have no idea what is happening in our neighbours' homes. We yearn for connection, but are afraid of being pushy and we don't want to intrude. Door-knocking is a unique experience. You intrude. You show up unannounced, to meet people literally where they are. Sometimes, you stumble upon a private hell that has been shielded from others and, being the safe stranger, you sometimes get far more honesty than you were expecting.

The first time someone breaks down crying on the doorstep, you feel shaken. It wasn't what you were expecting and you feel completely unprepared. Now that it has happened to me three times, I'm starting to feel strangely prepared. People's lives are very stressful and despite the great wealth and resources of our province, many people are pushed to the edge of despair.

I met a woman who is a single mother, battling cancer, living below the poverty line, with a child who has special needs. Clearly, this is more than one person can bear, but her greatest grief was not this relentless list of challenges, it was the humiliation of our social assistance program which made her feel not only poor and sick, but somehow unwanted and unvalued. We can overcome a lack of money. We can overcome severe illness. We can overcome the daily challenges of a child with disabilities, but overcoming a lack of dignity and respect is far more difficult.

A few weeks later, I met a woman who came to Alberta five years ago from India. She has a PhD, speaks perfect English and was assured that Canada needed people with her skills. She had high hopes of building a better life for herself and her family. Instead, she has found endless frustration. She cannot find a job in her field and is forced to work in jobs that squander her potential. She feels like giving up and returning to India. Again, I saw tears of humiliation and disappointment.

The next week, I met a woman who had recently lost her father. She described the ordeal of trying to help him to die, with dignity, at home. She described the poor care he received at the hospital, the challenges of organizing homecare and palliative care. Again, there were tears of isolation and stress.

All three lives provoked the same reaction in me: This is not My Alberta. I want our province to provide compassionate care, to help people to realize their full potential, to build strong communities that can recognize and address needs. We can do better, I know we can. We are not just a province of merciless competition and survival of the fittest. We are a province of cooperation and compassion.

So- over the holidays, I hope we all take the time to intrude on our neighbours, to ask how they are doing, to spend the time to listen and to assure each other that we do count, we are valued and that this province is certainly big enough (and rich enough) to include us all.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays and All the Best for the New Year!!