I vividly remember a day from my childhood, around the age of ten in the late 1930s, when I was working in the hayfield for two brothers known as the Black Princes. This nickname, which they carried for as long as I can recall, likely stemmed from their lifestyle, which was notably devoid of water—bathing and washing were not their priorities.
The day was scorching, and my thirst became unbearable. I watched as a grocery delivery truck stopped at the Princes’ modest home. Shortly after, one of the brothers came down to the field, handing me two ripe tomatoes from the delivery. I relished them greatly. More importantly, this moment revealed something profound about this man, whose life appeared so different—he possessed a hidden kind of love, a divine compassion for others. This incident has stayed with me for over half a century.
Recent weeks have brought unforeseen misfortunes to millions in Canada. Yet, during these times, the love and kindness among people have truly shone. Neighbors, who might not have shared much before, have come together to help one another. I recall a similar spirit from my youth when a March snowstorm isolated our community for around three weeks. We shared flour, meat, and sugar with each other. Though it was a minor crisis, it taught us to appreciate our neighbors in new ways.
I recently spoke with a local resident who returned from delivering supplies to Kemptville. Compelled to help, he took his unused generators and other goods to those in need. His urgency was palpable as he distributed help without expecting anything in return. When he offered a generator to a farmer who had just run out of water for his 50 cows, he was asked if he was sent by God. This generosity from someone I never expected to see such kindness from was a humbling reminder not to judge people hastily.
Our willingness to help often comes with hesitation, fearing that our intentions might be misunderstood. I remember an old acquaintance who once showed me a book of poems he had written, insisting I reveal it to no one. The love and care in his words showed me a side of him I hadn’t known. Trust was placed in me, which I cherish deeply.
Showing love leaves us vulnerable, yet it’s through these acts that we often find our greatest strength.
Earl Pirie was my father-in-law. He was born in rural northern Ontario in 1929 and he left us to be with Jesus in 2012 – He was a gentle gem of a man and he is loved and missed. He was also a pastor and left behind a wonderful collection of stories and sermons. This is one of his stories. I have tried do my best to give his words justice as I share them with you but I wanted it known that Earl is the author. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have.
