Wenlido (short memoir) by Leanne Dyck

How does a rural gal adjust to life in an intimidating big city? My solution...

When in your life did you feel the strongest?

photo by ldyck

 

 Wenlido

I graduated from high school and was eager to kick over the traces of my small town. My heart held no fear, only dreams of an exciting life. Winnipeg delivered. I attended university and met my husband, and... I had many great adventures.

When I moved from Winnipeg (population 702,396) to Greater Vancouver (population 2,132,800), my confidence was shaken. Are the streets safe? What would I do if something happened? These questions haunted my sleepless nights.

Trying to calm my anxiety, I signed up for a women's self-defence course—Wenlido. The class was led by a capable and caring instructor. I learnt to de-escalate problems before they arose by initiating a conversation, aim for the kneecaps, not the crotch, and how to break out of a wrist hold. The class culminated with the ultimate challenge—breaking a board with your hand. If I were successful, nothing could stop me. If I failed... If I failed, I could break my hand.

The instructor and my fellow participants cheered me on. "Come on, Leanne, you've got this. Slice that board in half. Visualize your hand sailing right through."

I swung my hand back and then forward. Down... Down... Down. Snap. The board broke. My hand didn't. 

photo by ldyck

I walked out of that class with my head held high. Whatever happened, I was ready.

written on December 13, 2005

photo by ldyck

On this blog in June...

Sunday, June 1

Floating Away (children's story)

...about sailing away on a bed boat...

Sunday, June 8

Children's Hospital (short memoir)

...about the day I was assessed as dyslexic

Sunday, June 15

Tying Laces with my Dad (short memoir)

 When I have trouble tying my shoelaces, my dad...

Sunday, June 22

Book Review for Indigenous Day

Two Tricksters Find Friendship by Johnny Aitken and Jess Willows

...is a year in the life of a new mutually supportive friendship between Jessie, a white girl, and Johnny, an Indigenous boy

Sunday, June 29

Book Reviews for Canada Day

Canadian Reads: a collection of my favourite books by Canadian authors

photo by ldyck

Without a reader,

A writer's words mean

Nothing

Learn more...

Ethan's Ferry Trip (children's story) by Leanne Dyck

 Ethan’s Ferry Trip introduces children to the joys of travelling by ferry.

 photo by ldyck

Ethan’s Ferry Trip

Mom drove our car onto the big boat. She called it a ferry. We climbed stairs up to a room full of people, but I didn’t know anyone. I sat right beside a window and felt the ferry move.

Mom said, “We’re sailing away.”

I waved goodbye to the trucks, cars and buildings.

The ocean stretched on and on and on.

A man I couldn’t see said, “Look outside”—or something. His words crackled from a box over our heads.

"That was the Captain," Mom explained, “He sails the ferry and wants us to look over there.” She pointed out the window. “Whales!”

Everyone crowded around our bench. They all talked about the whales. But all I could see was water shooting into the air.

A girl with red hair said, “My name’s Salal. Want to play?”

We played cat and dog. Salal crawled around saying, “Meow.” I crawled after her, saying, “Woof. Woof. Woof.” And we played hide-and-seek. Salal was so good at hiding that I needed Mom’s help. We found Salal under her mom’s bench.

My mom and Salal’s mom talked and talked and talked. Salal shared her books with me. I liked the one about the big trucks.

The ferry went thud.

"Mom, what was that?" I asked.

"Don't worry," she said, "The ferry docked. It’s time to get off.”

Mom helped me put my jacket back on. I helped Mom collect our stuff. We had toys for me, a book for Mom, a purse for Mom and a backpack for me.

Mom had to open the heavy door because I couldn't push it. Then, there were the stairs. I held onto the handrail and carefully climbed down. One step, two steps, three, all the way to the cars and trucks. Our car was hiding, so we had to look really hard to find it.

We climbed into the car and buckled our seat belts. Mom followed two trucks off the ferry and down the ramp.

I looked out the back window and waved goodbye. “Thank you, ferry,” I said. “Mom, that was really fun. I want to do it again.”

She smiled at me. “We will,” she said.

photo by ldyck

On this blog in May

Sunday, May 25

Wenlido (memoir)

Intimidated by the thought of moving from Winnipeg to the heavily populated city of Vancouver, I...

photo by ldyck

Without a reader,

A writer's words mean

Nothing

Two Tricksters' Book Launch...