Some people have great smiles because they have dazzling teeth, and some have teeth that make me cringe - yet I love to see them smile because of how it transforms their face. Some people possess smiles that are not won easily, and when you finally receive one from them it is like a personal victory. Others seem to have a perma-grin that almost makes you wonder what in the world they are thinking! Some people only smile with their mouths, and others smile with their eyes and it is like a window into their soul. Personally, my favourite smiles are the ones that make the corners of someone’s eyes crinkle up and remind you that there is a lot of history behind that smile - and the very thought is enough to spark my curiosity to want to find out more about them.

When we picked their family as one of the families we wanted to build for, it was hard to ignore Jennifer’s smile - it spoke volumes to all of us. Jennifer is only 20 years old, but she has the kind of smile that reminds you there is a lot of hard-won history behind it. In fact, her smile is more than a welcome invitation to friendship; it is an invitation into her world. And for many of us, her world is hard to imagine.

This summer we built a house for Jennifer, her husband, Juan de Jésus, and their two young children. Their previous living conditions were deplorable: flimsy walls built from crates and other expendable material, a roof with massive holes that were rusted through and the continual exposure to flooding and the elements. Every time it rained, their children, aged 2 years and 10 months got wet, and Jennifer and Juan would cover them with their own bodies to keep them from getting too chilled while they slept. But in the end, the bottom line for their family was that without outside help, this is about as good as life would get.

One day, about half way through the project I was finally able to come and visit the Hero Holiday team and meet Jennifer’s family. Jennifer was up to her elbows alongside of our team as they worked at the concrete blocks that made up her walls. I had the privilege to sit for a moment and chat with Jennifer about what this house was going to mean for her. What she said surprised me a little. She told me that she was excited that her kids would be safe and dry and that they would have the security that the home would bring. But she also told me about what she was the most excited about: sharing her new home with her family and friends. She told me that she has always dreamed of hosting people in her home and she has never had a home that was fit enough to even sit inside, let alone have company in. This home was giving her a dignity that I hadn’t even considered before: the dignity of having the opportunity to offer something to someone else.

On the last day of our time with her family, we had our house dedication celebration. It poured rain and the muddy streets outside of her home were slick from the runoff. But we were inside her house, waiting for the others to arrive. There were about 5 Canadians, 20 neighbours and Jennifer’s family, squished shoulder to shoulder in her kitchen. The rain made it hard to hear anything between the echo off the roof and the chatter of excitement of everyone inside those four walls. But I caught what Jennifer said in reply to my comment about how much rain there was.

Her smile spread across her face, infused with pure joy. “Yes, there is lots of rain. But we can smile now when it’s raining!”

Yes, actually, you are right. You can - and it is our honour to know that together, we somehow helped to make that happen. Rain, schmain, right?

To find out more about Absolute’s Hero Holidays in Dominican Republic, Mexico, Thailand and Haiti, check out www.absolute.org.

When I first heard the news, I remember what one affected teenager was quoted as saying: “It all happened so fast. I feel lost, misplaced. They can’t bring our town back.” It turned out to be true.

When the residents of Slave Lake, Alberta went to bed one Saturday night in May, many of them were concerned about the forest fires that were burning just south of their town. But their minds were put at ease by the local police and authorities who assured them that there was no danger. When they woke Sunday, they were told there was still no need to evacuate - and they were sent to local Walmart and Canadian Tire parking lots in town to wait it out. But by Sunday night, that proved to be very wrong, as 40% of the town had been consumed by the fire, leaving hundreds of families homeless and in total shock.

Georgia and Aidan’s family was one of them.

However, along with Gabrielle, another friend from their town, they still managed to show up in Toronto this summer, ready to depart for a Hero Holiday in Dominican Republic. Together with all of the other Hero Holiday participants that met there, they had made a decision to do something meaningful with their summer vacation: they were going to build a house for a family that needed it in a tiny port community tucked inside Puerto Plata. And they did. In fact, they built a house that is now home to 7 people: four adults and three babies.

Building a house for someone else at your own expense in terms of time, money, and energy is a noble feat. But, builiding a home for someone on the other side of the world when you have just lost your own family home is an undeniable expression of character and passion. When I sat down with the three of them and heard their stories, as they spoke about the drastic changes in their community and what it was like to live through such a shocking experience, the three of them were in total agreement: they couldn’t not do this. They had made a commitment to travel halfway across the world to help a family that desperately needed a home, a circumstance which now seemed all the more real to them, and they had every intention of following through on what they’d set out to do.

There was something one more thing that impressed me about them that has left a mark on my heart. It was about more than the fact that they joined us this summer despite what they were in the middle of. It was about their level of passion to see past what they knew as reality, and to believe that they were capable of making a difference for someone else - even when it was not convenient for them. People like Georgia, Aidan and Gabrielle make us proud to be able to do what we do every day: work and bring hope and change alongside of unsung heroes who deserve to be thanked for their simple acts of bravery. Their bravery to keep going and to reach out to others is their gift to the world around them. And that will never go unnoticed.

Want to join us on a Hero Holiday? Check out www.absolute.org.

I drop them all the time and I can often forget where I put them. I put one into the ignition of my car countless times while I hold my breath hoping that it will start! I run out the door and use it without even remembering at times, and I find old ones lying around that don’t fit any of the locks in my life.

Keys have played a part in our lives for over 4000 years. The early Egyptians are credited with first putting them to use, including wooden and metal lock and key combinations. In our modern world, the humble little key has taken on many upgrades and new faces and uses, but always it represents one thing above all others - security. A simple little turn of the key when you leave your house or when you are trying to get your car to start can change the way you feel, relieve your anxiety, and even make you look forward to the day ahead. The key is an unsung hero.

There are often many people who come into our lives that we can learn from, despite how far apart our worlds may feel. Marina is someone like that in Rose’s life. Marina had been adopted by a Canadian/American family that had taken in 18 kids. Rescued from a life of risk and insecurity, she flourished under their love. However, their house was only so big,and so when Marina was old enough, she had to step out into the world on her own, and hope that she was ready. The family wanted to make sure she was taken care of and that she had a chance to make the most of the future in front of her. When Rose went to see her, she knew that she was going to be okay - because of what she kept repeating to them.

In that small town of Vicente Guerrero, Mexico, there is a nursing home, Bueno Samaritano. It is full of amazing staff and grateful residents. And behind it, attached to the back side of the large building is a neat and well maintained little house. That day, standing in front of it was Marina, waving at Rose as she held up a key and repeated in Spanish, “This is the key to my house!” It was such a simple statement that held so much pride, hope, and assurance. She was going to be ok. That house was built for her because she is valuable and because she needs someone to believe in her.

For Rose, that simple key gave great insight into what life is like for the families and individuals that we work with through our Hero Holiday program. There is such peace of mind, hope and and assurance that can be brought by holding a key. Life can become more stable, nights can become more restful, and children can be better protected - all because of what that key represents.

Next time you hold your house key in your hand, I hope you remember Marina and the countless Marinas around the world who need someone to believe in them and acknowledge that they are worth it. Because they are.

To find out more about our Hero Holiday program and how you can be a part of building a home for someone like Marina, check out www.absolute.org.

When you are up to your eyeballs in trouble and stress, perspective is sometimes hard to muster up. When you have been disappointed one too many times, hope seems more like a taunt than a promise. When you are struggling with your mistakes and wondering if you will ever get it right, it can be hard to believe that life can ever get even a little easier. When you are down at the bottom, even though there is nowhere to go but up, it can seem impossible to believe there is any way to get there.

Their life is almost impossible to imagine. As I type these words and as you are reading them, it is pretty much a sure thing that you and I are both safe, secure, and, within reason, are able to stay that way. We are not faced with the daily struggle of survival and we don’t know what it is to go without basic human needs. Due to the randomness of birth, we live in and belong to a country that ensures that we are given safety nets and provision. Not so for this family.

This family lives on the edge of a community called Aguas Negras. There are three of them in their home: the father, mother, and their 15 year old son. They are so deeply impoverished that even the other families in this small, poor community that they are a part of feel compassion for them, but are unable to help them. Their world is wrapped up in cardboard, driftwood, rusted tin, and re-used porous wood - all of it battered by the elements they are subjected to.

Their house is in a flood path, and there is absolutely nothing they can do to change it. They lack all the basic supplies that shouldn’t even be in question: no beds, dry blankets, or clothes. They have no safety, no privacy, and lack the ability to even try to properly cook anything. Their feet swell from being in the dirty water all the time, and rashes are starting to form because they are always wet. In this place, hope might be completely impossible to imagine.

But anything is possible, isn’t it?

Hero Holiday needed to find projects for the summer that would both benefit a family’s immediate needs and help to shape their future. This family is more than in need and we are more than willing to do what we can to help them. In one month from now, tones of Canadians will be working alongside of them and others in their community to reshape the future of Aguas Negras.

As Cole, our Construction Manager, stood at this family’s door and told them that we would like to build them a house this summer, the news began to sink in and their son began to cry and repeatedly murmur, “Mucho gracias, mucho mucho gracias.” What they may never understand though, is that we should be thanking them, because by allowing us to help them, they are helping us to remember why we hope. And when we remember that, anything is possible.

To find out more about our Hero Holiday program and how you can be a part of what we do, check out www.absolute.org.

I stepped through the ropes and tried to plan out what I was going to do. It was so set in my mind. But when the timer buzzed, my opponent went postal. She came at me like an animal and just started wildly throwing punches and hooks. My mind went numb and all I could think of was survival. All my grandiose and well-thought plans went out the window and I just focused on keeping my kidneys intact. So much for being who I thought I would be when the timer buzzed!

It was so easy to assume that I would know what to do when it was my turn, but theory and practice can be worlds apart.

Ryan has been on tour with Absolute this past semester. He plays in the band, Hearts in Stereo and he also shares his story on many days, with many students across Canada. His story is about Kevin.

Kevin was the type of guy that is inevitably in every school we go into. Never quite fitting in, never quite in sync with what is going on, and in need of a friend and some understanding. Ryan wanted to be that for Kevin. Although they didn’t really talk at school, they would chat on MSN and Ryan began to gain an appreciation for who Kevin really was. But then something happened. Kevin began to withdraw and stopped returning Ryan’s messages. Soon Kevin was doing a dive bomb into drugs and messing with the law. Ryan was at a loss. Discouraged and convinced he had nothing to offer Kevin, Ryan pulled back and focused on finishing up high school.

Soon Ryan graduated and moved on to Ottawa to go to university. Shortly after getting to Ottawa, Ryan heard some news from back home and it was not what he had ever wanted to hear. Kevin had taken his own life. No one knew why and there were more questions than answers. Ryan took the news really hard, continually questioning what he could have done differently, angered with himself for giving up on Kevin. That’s when the timer buzzed for Ryan.

He couldn’t always stand outside of everything and not take a risk in getting to know someone. He couldn’t change what happened with Kevin, but he could begin to try to understand how to help others who may find themselves in similar trouble. He might never know exactly what to say or do, but he wasn’t going to take the easy way out anymore. He was going to stick it out and reach out and continue to believe in someone - even when they couldn’t believe in themselves.

Each day when Ryan has stood on the stage and shared about his friendship with Kevin, he speaks to two different types of guys in the crowd: the ‘Kevins’ and the ‘Ryans’. The ‘Kevins’ need to know that they are never alone and that there are people around them who are genuinely looking for an opportunity to get to know them and reach out to them. And the ‘Ryans’ need to be reminded that there is a lot of power in their lives to make a difference for others. In the end, they both need each other.

To find out more about Absolute and our high school assemblies and programs, check out www.absolute.org.

The Dominican peso is about 37.5 to the Canadian dollar right now. 4000 pesos is worth about $110. In our world, $110 is a cell bill, a pair of jeans, a really good night out, a couple of new video games, a down payment on a new laptop, a Saturday afternoon at the mall, or even a tank of gas in the car. It’s not a lot, really - except if you are a teacher in a little unknown village inside the port of Puerto Plata - because 4000 pesos is what each one of those teachers make each month. For real.

Each of them teaches in the morning, the afternoon - or both, for the same amount. If you break that down to a daily amount, it is around $5.50 per day. No matter where you live in the world, that is not very much for someone with that kind of responsibility.

When I stand in their classrooms with different teams that come to visit, I always watch the teachers. They are so awesome. Each visit we teach them the Hokey Pokey song or some other deep and contemplative English number for the kids to have fun with. They all go nuts with laughter, but for me, the best part is watching the teachers. They join in with such passion and craziness that we can never keep a straight face watching them. And every time we walk out of that school I think about what they so willingly put out every day - because they really get it.

Would I be able to do that every day for 4000 pesos a month? Would I be able to have a vision for my life and my world if every day was a struggle to just be able to eat and stay healthy? I don’t know if I could. They amaze me. They are not perfect or even necessarily altruistic - but I realize that I can learn something from all of them. They love their jobs; they really do. They don’t have computers, a real desk or even a staff room to relax in. But they love their jobs because they love those kids, and they love what they represent. They represent the future, and to be able to be a part of that now means a lot to them. They are far more wealthy than their 4000 peso salary, because they have investments in the future that are worth more than any of us will ever understand.

And lucky me: I get to sing the Hokey Pokey with them every time I go to their school.

This summer we are going to be working in their community, helping to build homes and be a part of something amazing. To find out more about how you can join us, check out www.absolute.org.

When I asked those words to that group of high school students I was looking forward to hearing their answers. First of all, we were in Alberta, and I half expected the one cowboy who came up to the front and said that it was when he was able to stay on the bull that he was riding for the 8 seconds. Although that is a pretty cool life moment, it was the student that followed behind him that blew me away.

We were there for a full Absolute Think Day, complete with workshops and assembly presentations. The school had requested that we take a different route with our workshops and we decided to split them into groups of five. In each group, we would share stories about ourselves, in an effort to break down some barriers and to connect on a whole new level. Topics were everything from your most embarrassing moment to someone in the school whom you admired, and our team each shared a story as well. It was such an amazing day and I was so thankful to be a part of it. But by far, her story was the one I will remember.

She was tiny and quiet, but her smile was infectious. She was Japanese and she was here in this small town in the middle of Alberta for her second year on an exchange program. I can’t remember her name, but I will always remember her answer to the question. She put her hand up and I invited her to centre stage. I could tell she was not used to having the spotlight.

“Well, to be honest, my best life moment is very different from everyone else here.” She smiled nervously.  I nodded to her to encourage her to keep talking.

“Since I was as young as I can remember, I have dreamed of being able to go to school in Canada. So, standing right here and getting to know all of you is what I would say my best life moment is.”

There was a stunned silence. And as if someone had given them a cue, the entire student body began to cheer and clap. As she nodded her head at them, she quickly ran back to her spot on the floor where she was sitting. As she was going back to her seat, a thought struck me and I called out to her.

“Has your family been affected by the earthquake and tsunami?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, very matter of factly. “My family’s house was destroyed in the earthquake and they are staying with family until they can go back home.”

“How do you feel being in Canada while they are going through all of that?” I asked her.

“My family has told me they are very proud of me and thankful that I am safe in Canada. They want me to stay here and continue to study and learn all I can about Canadian culture. We love this country.”

Those of us who were born and raised in Canada and who were in that room at that moment experienced something unfamiliar. We were humbled by what we have always been in possession of but have taken for granted more times than not: opportunity.

I think that brief conversation touched a lot of lives that afternoon, and it reminded me of how blessed we are to live in a country that the world around us dreams of being a part of.

There are many things wrong within our nation and there are many reasons that we could be frustrated, but there is one thing that I’m constantly reminded of: we are born in freedom and opportunity for a reason. It is our responsibility to make the most of it every day. It is tempting to want to level our gaze to what we can only see in front of us, but there is so much more to life. This life is a gift and an opportunity - let’s make the most of it.

To find out more about Absolute’s high school programs or our Hero Holiday humanitarian opportunities and how you can be a part of what we do, check out www.absolute.org.

Tyeshia Jones went missing from Duncan, B.C., early in the morning on Saturday, January 22, 2011. The community pulled together and by Monday morning, the desperate search for her was in full swing. Days later, the search ended in a painful and shocking discovery. Her body was found in the woods on Cowichan Tribes land on January 28. Tyeshia was 18.

Her body was laid to rest on February 4 in Duncan. The community came out to share their grief and honour her brief, inspiring life. A few days later, Absolute was in Duncan, BC, invited to be a part of the event in Duncan called, “Take Back the Night”. Two thousand people gathered, to raise awareness and honour Tyeshia and several other girls in the Vancouver Island Aboriginal community that had been tragically murdered in recent months. There were drum circles, songs, and community spokespeople on the stage. Among those, by special invite, was Bondless, one of the bands currently on tour with Absolute.

When we arrived at the event we had no idea what to expect. Me and the guys were contacted by Tyeshia’s mother two weeks before and asked to be a part of the night. We just happened to be in town at the right time and were able to be there. We had met Tyeshia briefly at a concert we played a year before on Vancouver Island called ‘Alive Inside’. We may have only said two or three words to her and taken a picture, but still I remembered her and recognized her face.

When it came time for the band to perform, we were introduced as “Tyeshia’s favourite music group”. When I heard that, it hit me like a brick. This girl I met briefly a year before had been following us the entire time. She was 18 years old when she died. There were grad pictures of her around the room that had been taken only a few months before her death. It made me really pay attention to how I treat the kids that are at our shows. Obviously, those few moments for Tyeshia meant so much more than I had realized. That night, hundreds of Tyeshia’s friends and school mates were at the event and we got to spend time with them just like we had with Tyeshia Jones. I realized just how much impact even a smile can have on someone. I think about Tyeshia every show now and I’ll never forget her story.

The bands that tour with us in the high schools across Canada are each passionate about why they do what they do. They are musicians with a gift to share, but they are also individuals choosing to make a difference with what they have. Bondless chose to invest in that event a year ago because they believed in the positive message that it was sending to everyone that came out: you matter. Each day we have the privilege of living our lives with the world around us. In the daily grind of what we do we can forget one very important detail about ourselves: how powerful our lives really are. Our choices, our treatment of others, our view of what we bring to the world leaves a lasting residue on those around us. Our life is but a breath in terms of time, but what we choose to do with that is what resounds long after we have been there. In some way, Tyeshia was impacted by her encounter with Bondless, and in some way, they were able to give back to her.

When Bondless stood on that stage that night, they weren’t playing for the 2000 people they were looking out at. They were playing for Tyeshia, one final time.

Absolute road teams tour across Canada, working to create a movement of love, hope, and change. To find out more about our school assemblies and how you can get involved through our School of Leadership, check out www.absolute.org.

Vicky is in Grade 12. She is well spoken, focused, and she is full of big plans for what she wants to accomplish with her life. Her laugh is very infectious and her smile is very unassuming. She had joined us before in Dominican Republic, so when I found out she would be in Thailand with me last summer; I was really looking forward to sharing the experience with her.

Everyone that joins us in Thailand is always amazed at how much hope they experience in the midst of such heartbreaking stories: hope flourishes in the most unlikely of places all over the earth, and this is one of those places. Last summer while we were working on some projects in an amazing children’s home in northern Thailand, Vicky and the other participants saw what life can look like when you are willing to try to believe again. Together with the staff at the home, we built a recycling centre, did some basic renovations on their outdoor kitchen and helped to work to make life a little easier. We were all changed in the process, but it was Vicky who really took the next step towards making the connection. When she returned to her hometown in Northern Ontario, she couldn’t stop thinking about those kids, their lives and the world in which they lived. She knew that many of them had experienced more in their short lives than many of us could ever imagine, and she longed to be able to do something to remind them that they were not forgotten. Finally, she had an idea: she would send each of them individualized Christmas gifts from Canada - all 150 of them!

The more she talked about her experience, the more her school and community worked to support the idea. Each person in her school brought $2 to help pay for the shipping of the gifts, and many community members pitched in to help to buy, sort and send their packages of love. The shipping company promised a holiday delivery. It arrived at the end of February. For many of us that would have been enough cause to throw our hands up in the air and freak out, but not this crew. They were just excited that someone remembered them and took the time to show them in such a tangible way. When they opened the gifts only a few short weeks ago, they were excited and thrilled at what they found inside

These kids hardly own anything to speak of. Their flip flops, their clothes, and their entire lives are communal. While that may be economical, it isn’t always possible to feel like you are special within that context. The staff work with them to make them feel individual, but in the end, some of them, like us, need to know that they are special to someone. And that is what this Christmas delivery was about. Each child in the home received a package that was individualized to them within certain limits. They had their own gift to open and to cherish. Vicky and her friends were very intentional about finding gifts that would be something they would be able to use, but also to enjoy. One of those gifts that a few of the children received were their own Etch-A-Sketches. The staff at the home reported back that the kids were enjoying their toys and gifts for hours and were all so excited to share with each other.

The Etch-A-Sketch has been around the world since the 1950’s. It has survived many generations of creativity, and most of us probably still have one somewhere in our basement. But few of us would say that it changed our lives and made us feel loved. Except if it was one of the few gifts that we had ever received in our lives. Then, it becomes an Etch-A-Sketch of love.

Vicky is the kind of person that we love to have join us on a Hero Holiday: she is someone like you. She just wanted to be a part of making a difference and wanted to reach out and remind them that they are not forgotten. You can join us this August in Thailand and be a part of something life changing! Check out www.heroholiday.com.
“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” – Mahatma Gandhi

His horse is a far cry from a ‘trusty steed’. In fact, I would probably say it is more like a tired, anorexic mare. However you want to classify it, it is a horse, and that alone is a valuable commodity where he finds himself.

He is the jefe (pronounced hay-fay) and it means he is the boss. The title is in reference to the years he oversaw the workers in the cane fields, and he still carries himself like a man who is used to being accountable for people. He rides his horse in places that are too far to walk and the animal is both transportation and freight delivery at times.

He looks you in the eye when you ask him a question and he is watchful to anticipate your needs and concerns. The community respects him and his children miraculously seem to listen to him. His name is Jose-Michele and he is a good man. He is kind and truly cares about the people of Chichigua, a small Haitian community clinging to the side of a sprawling overgrown sugar cane field.

Everyone in the community seems to remember all being there together. Some of them have papers to be in Dominican Republic that were clearly issued many moons ago, long before the tension of statelessness that frustrates the country today. All those years, living and working together and all those years sharing one thing in common morning, noon and night: they used the surrounding field as a bathroom.

It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? But what else are you going to do with no work, no money and barely enough food to survive? The last item on your to-do list is a proper bathroom, and even then you would probably write it off as a non-necessity. But proper sanitation means more than you or I can appreciate, because sometimes it can mean the difference between life and death.

It’s pretty exciting to be a part of something so simple, yet something so profoundly impacting on a community like this. Women and children can feel a little safer, not having to trek out into the fields in the dark. Communal showers mean less transmission of diseases and the basic human right to be nice and clean. Life in general takes on a new quality, as you realize that you are worth the effort, simply because you have intrinsic value and someone cared enough to acknowledge that value.

Jose-Michele has 12 kids between himself and his wife. They have grown children with kids of their own, and they have toddlers running around, playing at their feet. They have a daughter who is mentally and physically disabled, whom the community loves very much, and they have the daily challenge of survival. I asked him what they do for work and for food, and he pointed to the banana trees along the side of the field, indicating that they can always eat and sell them somewhere.

With a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, he said, “We always find a way to eat”.
I asked him what he thought about the new toilet and shower facility being built right in front of him by 27 high school students from North Vancouver, B.C.

He just smiled, nodded his head, and looked me in the eye. “I think it’s very good - for all of us.”
He’s right. It is good for all of us. They needed the help and we needed to help. Life is good according to Jose-Michele and I think those of us that are a part of what happened in that tiny community have to say agree.
Thank you, Chichigua, for letting us into your world; and thank you, world, for helping us get into Chichigua.

This summer you can join us in Dominican Republic as we have the incredible opportunity to change the world and be changed in the process! Check out www.heroholiday.com. You belong here!