Amanda Achtman, one of Canada’s prominent young Catholic voices, recently answered the call to visit one of our northernmost dioceses. 

Pope Francis often speaks about how the elderly are a treasure and has dedicated much of his pontificate to promoting a culture of encounter between generations.Inspired by this emphasis, Bishop Hector Vila recently invited me to the Diocese of Whitehorse to deliver several workshops and presentations geared toward exploring the value of life at all stages.

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A highlight involved an activity I facilitated between elementary-age students and a local elderly couple. Gathered in the Cathedral Hall, I kicked off the session with a provocative question: “What’s good about getting old?”Hands shot up. “You learn more.” “You’ve travelled the world.” “You can say more things to your children.” One boy said, “You’re closer to dying… and getting to Heaven, hopefully!”

Circling back to that response a few minutes later, I asked, “How would you like to hear from some people who are closer to Heaven?”

The kids showed enthusiasm, so I turned to Nick Sibbeston, former territorial premier and federal senator, and his wife Karen. Nick and Karen Sibbeston regularly attend Sacred Heart Cathedral in Whitehorse and introduced themselves simply by their first names.

“How many years do you think Karen and Nick have been married?” I asked.

The guesses came: “50 years?” “25 years?” “43 years?” “48 years?”

After many guesses, which were all too low, Karen announced, “We’ve been married for 56 years!”

Next came guessing the couple’s ages. The numbers beginning to climb, Karen light-heartedly intercepted the rising guesses to inform the youngsters she is 78 and Nick is 80.

The Sibbestons, who have six children and 26 grandchildren, were then invited to share their life story for several minutes before fielding questions from their attentive listeners.

Karen began, “Good afternoon. I see there are a lot of kids here who have parents and grandparents. Well, I had parents and grandparents as well. My parents had 17 of us, and I’m the fifth oldest one in the family. My husband is the only child in his family, so we grew up very differently. My family would go to church on Sundays, and sometimes there wasn’t a big enough vehicle. You didn’t need seatbelts back then and so we all crowded in, and then we took up a lot of space in the church!”

Nick introduced himself, telling his young audience he was from Fort Simpson in the Northwest Territories, just across the mountains. “I was born in a little Dene — a little Native community — and my mother had me,” Nick began. “I didn’t have a father, so I sometimes used to say, ‘I’m just like Jesus!’ He was born miraculously, and didn’t really have a father but of course Joseph looked after Him. As for me, I had my mother, and I had my grandmother and they looked after me so well.”

Nick spoke about how his grandmother used to set snares for rabbits and make a “very tasty soup.” He had nice moccasins and woollen clothes and a little parka with fur around it. Like the children before whom he was speaking, he spent a lot of time playing outside. But unlike most of these children, English was not his mother tongue.  

“At first I spoke the Dene language,” Nick said, “but throughout my lifetime I learned English and, at one point, even French.”

Nick then spoke some words in Dene and explained these words meant: “I hope you kids are having a good time.”

Showing interest and engagement, the kids asked questions like: “Why didn’t you have seatbelts?” and “How deep was the snow in Fort Simpson?”

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Then I added a question of my own.

“Fort Simpson. Isn’t that where John Paul II visited?”

Nick answered “yes” and told the group that he had been in government at the time, serving as the Premier of the Northwest Territories. The first time Pope John Paul II tried to visit Fort Simpson, the plane could not land due to poor weather. But the Pope kept his promise and returned four years later.

Painting the scene, Nick reminisced: “First, he came down the steps and kissed the ground, like he always did. Then he shook our hands. I was the second person in line. The Governor General from Ottawa came and she shook his hand, and then the Pope shook my hand.”

With the kids’ rapt attention, Nick continued, “Pope John Paul II has died and he’s in Heaven, right? And so, I always remember that I shook a saint’s hand, so it’s a special hand!” he said, holding it up as the kids looked up admiringly.

“Does anybody have any questions about Nick getting to meet St. Pope John Paul II?” I asked.

A boy’s hand shot up and he said with awe, “That’s super cool.”

Another exclaimed, “My mom shook his hand, too!”

Nick also spoke to the children about the 11 years he spent in residential schools, including the years from age five to 11 that he did not see his mother due to her illness. “Can you imagine not seeing your mom for six years?” he asked.

Expressions of empathy and concern spread across their young faces.

The Sibbestons continued to speak about the simple gifts they had received as children, and the story of how they first met at the University of Alberta where they were studying to become teachers.

“There I met Karen. She had blonde hair and I thought that she was very nice. We were in some classes together and became friends. Eventually I asked her if she would marry me and, well, she... hesitated!” Nick said with a laugh. “But eventually, she said yes!”

The girls in the circle smiled shyly and giggled, noting Karen’s reactions to hearing the tale told in her presence.

A final exercise involved sending two boys to supervise Karen to make sure her ears were covered in the next room while Nick shared the story of the birth of his first child. When Karen returned, she received the same prompt with firm instructions that Nick was not to comment as she gave her own rendition.

The kids were then led in comparing and contrasting the respective accounts. They learned how, even a story that is deeply shared and a matter of common life, will be told uniquely by two different persons. The kids noticed, for example, that Karen mentioned her son’s birth weight whereas from only Nick’s account did the children learn that their eldest son is named Glen.

As we wrapped up our time together, I was amused by what had stood out to the children. For example, Nick had ever so briefly mentioned wrestling Karen’s brothers when getting to know her family and, to the boys, this was one of the most fascinating things about him. Another child reflected, “I liked how Karen told us how many siblings she has and told us all of their names!” The intergenerational activity was an occasion for the elderly to be the “artisans of the revolution of tenderness” that Pope Francis invites them to be.

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As it came time to leave, the kids gave Nick and Karen a round of applause before leaping up to give them high fives. How beautiful to see the children surround Nick and Karen with joy, delighting in the treasures they’d found.

(Amanda Achtman works to prevent euthanasia and encourage hope across Canada. For more info, visit: DyingToMeetYou.com)