David Freeman, an 80-year-old Calgary native and former Armed Forces member, writes that the president of the United States cannot have his country because his Canada is defined by deeply personal and communal experiences. In a reflective opinion piece for the Calgary Herald, Freeman paints a vivid picture of a nation built on small-town reverence, multilingual classrooms, and shared moments of generosity.
A Nation of Shared Traditions
Freeman describes his Canada as a snow-covered cenotaph in a small town, where the names of the fallen are spoken with reverence, remembered with poppies, and guarded by the Army, Air Force, and Sea Cadets. He emphasizes that his Canada is a classroom where children sing in English, French, and the language of an honoured First Nation, where joy is multilingual and tolerance is instinctive.
He also evokes a snowy street corner lit by a street lamp and warmed by a carol, where the Salvation Army band plays not just for coins, but for memory. A child learns the meaning of giving, and years later passes that lesson on. Tradition and joy are not frozen in time, but carried forward in song and spirit.
Moments of Connection
Freeman’s Canada includes a dock at sunset where boaters gather not to boast, but to bond. Fresh crab and cold drinks are shared without pretence, help is offered freely, and laughter is the currency of friendship. He also describes a prairie wedding stitched together by tradition, laughter, and casseroles, where the groom’s discomfort in a waistcoat is matched only by the community’s joy.
In a community dance theatre, every child is a star and every parent a patron of the arts. The avant-garde meets the everyday, and the audience responds not with critique but with love. A corner booth in a coffee shop is occupied by regulars who know each other’s ailments, opinions, and silences, where conversation is ritual and laughter is memory.
Resilience and Generosity
Freeman writes that his Canada is an RV park at dawn, a campsite at dusk, and a journey in between. Evenings are spent in the glow of shared meals and stories, where strangers become friends and children fall asleep to songs their parents once heard. He also mentions a park bench shaded by trees, where kite strings, soccer balls, and sacred texts coexist, and where love is expressed in rainbow pins and wisdom is passed from grandfather to grandchildren.
According to Freeman, his Canada is defined by people—by their kindness, creativity, and courage. It is found in quiet moments, shared meals, and spontaneous applause. It is found in the resilience of a dancer, the generosity of a neighbour, and the warmth of a street light carol.
A Large Country with a Small Population
Freeman concludes that Canada is a large country with a small population, and we understand that might does not make right. We believe freedom includes personal sovereignty, and we would rather show our flag at a hockey game than on a warship. He states emphatically: "He cannot have my country. Because my Canada is already spoken for."
David Freeman grew up in Calgary, graduated from the University of Calgary, and joined the Armed Forces. After retirement, he trained first responders across the country before settling on Vancouver Island. He is 80 years old.
