Grateful For Home

I did not choose this place—
this country stitched
from wild beauty
and quiet strength.

But I was lucky enough
to be born here.
And every day,
I thank the stars
for that sweet,
unearned gift.

For mountains
that scrape the sky with grace.
For lakes so clear
they reflect not just the clouds,
but something deeper—
something sacred.

For rivers that run
like ancient veins
through forests that whisper
in languages older than time.
For fields of gold
and coasts that kiss
two oceans.

I love this land—
not for some loud declaration,
but for the stillness it holds.
For the space it gives
to just be.

And I love our people.
Not perfect—
but kind.
Resilient.
Ready with a helping hand,
a warm laugh,
a shared story.

There is something steady
in the way we love this place.
In the way we show up
for each other.
In what we stand for—
equity,
compassion,
and the quiet kind of pride
that doesn’t need to shout
to be true.

To be Canadian
is to walk in beauty
every single day
and to know
that freedom
is not just a word—
it’s a view.
A value.
A way of being.

And I will never stop
giving thanks
for the happy accident
of being born
in a country
that feels like home
not just in body—
but in soul.