I give thanks that the visa section of the Canadian High Commission has responded alertly to our appeal to visit Canada on a goodwill tour which certainly will be of great benefit to Jamaica but also to Toronto, Canada.

Our singers are well on their way to being processed for their visas. Tickets are being bought; Canadians as well as Jamaicans are excited about attending the five tenors concert at Saints Peter and Paul Banquet Hall Toronto; and GraceKennedy has come forward as a sponsor, providing Christmas gifts of jerk chicken for all attendees.

This is the time of thanksgiving, both in Canada and the United States. It also time for thanksgiving for all Christian faiths. Christ reminds us that we must always give thanks.

“As Jesus was going into a village, 10 men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, ‘Jesus, Master, have pity on us!’

“When he saw them, he said, ‘Go, show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were cleansed.

“One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’s feet and thanked him — and he was a Samaritan.” — Luke 17:12-16

I feel like a leper; I feel like the leper who must give thanks to the priest for I really have been blessed by the Lord. The Lord brought my parents as poor immigrants from China. Our grandfather, Philip Ho Lung — who was an indentured servant working in tobacco fields — accepted my father, William, in Richmond, St Mary. My mother, Janet, was only 15 years when she mothered my sister Loretta and myself a year later.

Humble and hard-working, they had a little shop where they sold flour, cornmeal, and sugar, etc. At the beginning they could not speak a word of English, but they never gave up. They fed us each day with bulla cake and a little bowl of rice and salt fish. Later on they had two more children — Michael and Theresa.

My parents saw that the only way to the future was education and Kingston. At our very young age my father told us, “Never forget black people, never forget how kind they are. They accepted us in Jamaica, they gave us a future in our little shop.” My mother told us, “Don’t forget about Sara. She took care of you little children, bathed you in a pan of water, and sang to you songs about Jesus. Remember to give thanks all the days of your life for what God has given you. Be kind to the poor. Be kind, be kind, be kind.”

The Church took care of us in Kingston. Hunger was not a stranger to us; torn clothes were not strange to us; kindness was not a stranger to us. We give thanks to God for everything.

Now I give thanks to God and all the people I have known. I serve the poor in a marvellous brotherhood named Missionaries of the Poor. I find the brothers, who are from 14 different nations and the poorest and most forgotten, are the most interesting and loving people. I will not go to the United States or Canada to live, though these people have given me so much. Jamaica is where I was born and Jamaica is where I found Jesus, and He is the greatest gift of all.

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