A Slice of Canadiana:
Why a Timbit is a Dangerous Thing

What is Canada to me?

Canoes, beavers and the maple leaf
Polite, friendly neighbours
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police
The Rocky Mountains in my backyard
Clean water, rich soil, an abundance of resources
Vast stretches of land
Snow and ice and skiing and skating
Youth, innovation
A patchwork quilt of cultural diversity
A heritage built on Christian values and beliefs
From sea to sea to sea

And nothing tastes more Canadian than a steaming double-double with a donut on the side.

Every so often, out running errands or on the way home from church, our family will drive thru Tim Hortons. If the kids have been good we'll pick up a box of timbits for a treat. The line up of cars is always long, but as we sit in our idling van, talking and listening to the radio, we share a sense of camaraderie with the other vehicles. For a few minutes we pause, and together engage in a truly Canadian experience.

This morning Ben pulled into that familiar parking lot. The line wound around the building, at least twenty cars long. I flipped the radio dial to CBC, for the sake of the moment. Ben pulled up to the window and ordered (glory be!) the 40-pack of timbits, an extra-large double-double, and a large decaf mocha.

I think there is now one timbit left in the box (maybe two). Timbits may be small, but they are dangerous things. Perhaps Ben and I need to re-think our dream to purchase a Tim Hortons franchise. I doubt my willpower (or waistline) could withstand such a venture.