I’m just after celebrating my 89th birthday with six younger friends at Hanoi House.

That’s one of my favourite restaurants in Peterborough for two reasons: the owner is a supporter of the YWCA women’s programs, and I harbour a dream to visit Vietnam one day.

It reminded me of several things, of course. My long and adventurous life, my joys and sorrows, my work and travels, and my puny efforts to better my world.

Central to the occasion was my feeling of gratitude to live in this city, this country and to have younger friends, with their warmth and their thoughtfulness. They are all what we would term “young retirees.” They all have solid marriages, an achievement in itself.

Being in their company is such fun. They have stories of generosity to share, no moaning about the state of the world. Solutions-driven, self-deprecating and, whether they know it or not, inspiring.

Let me just list the activities and causes they undertake and champion. I’ll embarrass them thoroughly, but the news should be out there.

Colleen volunteers at Vinnie’s Food Pantry as a greeter. She’d be perfect, respecting and cheerful for the people who go there. Steve hefts items up at Restore. He says after a career having to plan what other people would do, it is a relief just to be told to “put that in the truck.” He also coaches minor hockey. Joe “adopted” a Syrian family through the New Canadians Centre — a father and three boys (Ahmad El Nime and Abdullah, Hamid and Muhammed) who had seen their mother killed in front of their very eyes during civil disorder there.

Joe guided their energetic, ambitious father to sources of help in Canada, and to everyone’s immense satisfaction, we attended the opening of Ahmad’s new restaurant on George Street, called — after a city in Syria — Aleppo Castle.

Casey schleps off to Toronto each week to teach her enlightened views to future social workers at the U of T. Peter, a cyclist, takes a regular turn with a group called Tandem Eyes, by which a sighted cyclist rides a two-person bike with a sightless person to provide them an outing and some exercise. His spouse, Cathy, gives leadership to the local nordic ski club up at Haultain, providing hundreds of families the opportunity for wholesome outdoor recreation.

I probe a bit for answers to why they live this way. They are modest, mentioning the example of their own parents … some speak of spirituality. None is infected with middle-class greed or feelings that they “deserve a rest.” Or self-pity.

Two weeks later, I am plodding up the Aylmer Street hill carrying groceries from FreshCo. A maroon car stops and a middle-aged woman rolls down her window, asks if I am OK, remarks that the bag looks heavy and offers me a ride home. On another icy day, a young man appears at my elbow downtown. He says, “Ma’am, I’m Josh. I’m 40. Would you like an arm to cross this road?” I reply: “I’m Rosemary. I’m 89, and yes, I’d be very happy to cross the road on your arm.”

We are living through strenuous times. One can easily understand the impulse to withdraw, to shore up one’s position, to plan pleasure.

But smart psychologists know that real joy happens for real people when they face truth head-on and discern, doing small or large acts of kindness for someone else in distress. Our distress is largely hidden, but everyone is feeling it.

My fridge door is the poster wall for inspiring quotes. One reads: “Whether this is the first day of the apocalypse, or the first day of the golden age, the work remains the same; to love one another and to ease as much suffering as possible.”

That’s from Ram Dass (1931-2019). He was an American of Jewish faith who originally went by Richard Alpert. He went to India and absorbed Hindu ideas.

© Peterborough Examiner