Chicken Soup for the Canadian Soul (10 page)

Ryan wasn’t concerned and replied simply, “That’s okay. I’ll just do more chores!”

News about what Ryan was doing got out, and soon we were getting calls from the media. When the
Ottawa Citizen
did a story on Ryan’s well, we began to receive donations at least once a week. People from all over were catching Ryan’s dream and were inspired to give.

A high school in Cornwall, Ontario, sold bottled water and presented WaterCan with a cheque for Ryan’s well for $228. Central Children’s Choir from Ottawa donated $1,000 for a Singing Well. The Ground Water Association of Eastern Ontario donated $2,700. And for every dollar Ryan raised, the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) matched it two for one. It wasn’t long before Ryan had raised more than enough money for his well.

Ryan was invited to a board meeting to discuss details of the well. Gizaw, the engineer from Uganda who would design and build the well, was visiting from Africa. Ryan asked him: How long would it take to build the well? Where would it be built? And would he get a picture? When Gizaw asked Ryan where he would like the well to be built, Ryan decided that it would be best near a school.

Ryan’s well was built beside Angolo Primary School in Uganda, Africa, and was dedicated in April of 1999!

But Ryan’s efforts had only begun. Ryan’s entire school embraced his dream. First, a fund-raising project raised about $1,400. Then the school organized a pen pal letter-writing campaign between Ryan’s class and the students at Angolo Primary School.

CTV and several big newspapers did lead stories on the project and interviewed Ryan. I was concerned about all the attention going to his head. When I asked Ryan’s teacher, Lynn, about it she said, “I don’t think so. Ryan never talks about it unless someone asks.” She then told me the class had been raising funds throughout the year, and a WaterCan had been placed on her desk. One day she’d walked into her classroom and found Ryan was at the water can, picking his picture off the side. “I already have enough money for my well,” he explained. “This well will be for my class.”

One day Ryan said, “I’m going to keep working until everyone in Africa has clean water.” I thought,
Oh, boy! I’d
heard about encouraging your children to be confident and dream
big dreams.
I didn’t want to say, like I almost had when he asked for the seventy dollars, that he couldn’t make a difference. The truth was, he already had!

One night Ryan shared with us that one day, he would love to actually see his well. I replied, “Ryan, you will see your well. You might be twelve by the time we save enough money to visit Africa, but I promise you‚ will see your well.”

One day, when Ryan was over visiting our neighbours, he announced, “When I’m twelve, I’m going to go over to Uganda and see my well.” He wrote his pen pal Jimmy Akana in Uganda saying, “When I’m twelve, I’m coming to see you.” This news spread like wildfire through the school in Uganda, and all the children wrote back to their pen pals in Ryan’s class asking, “Are you coming with Ryan? Did you know Ryan is coming when he’s twelve?”

When Jimmy wrote back, he said, “I always drink from your well, and I thank you for the well. We will be so happy to see you in Uganda when you’re twelve.”

At New Years, our neighbours, the Paynters, presented Ryan with a very special gift—enough air miles to fly three people halfway to Uganda to visit Jimmy and his well! The
Ottawa Citizen
then posted a request for more air miles. As a result of those donations, and some help from Water Can, my husband and I were able to join Ryan. Together, we would all see the amazing well that has allowed Ryan’s friends in Uganda to have fresh, clean water everyday.

On July 27, 2000, we arrived by truck in Angolo, Uganda. As we got close, a small group of children saw us and began calling out, “Ryan! Ryan!”

Ryan was astonished that they knew his name.

“Everybody for a hundred kilometres knows your name, Ryan,” our companion Gizaw Shibru announced.

As we rounded a bend, we were stunned to see a crowd of about 5,000 children from nearby schools lining the roadside, waiting for us. As our truck approached, they excitedly began clapping rhythmically in welcome!

Ryan managed to wave a shy hello. A welcoming committee then led us all to Angolo Primary School. Ryan’s pen pal, Jimmy, was waiting for him, and after they said hello, Jimmy took Ryan’s hand and led him to the well for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. As we approached Ryan’s well, we were overcome with joy. It was adorned with flowers, and on the concrete was inscribed: “Ryan’s Well: Formed by Ryan H for Comm. of Angolo.”

A village elder spoke words of appreciation: “Look around at our children. You can see they’re healthy. This is because of Ryan and our friends in Canada. For us, water is life.”

Ryan has also raised money for drilling equipment so that all districts can experience having clean, life-giving water. To date, Ryan has raised over $100,000, which, when matched with CIDA funding, totals over $300,000!

Ryan is now eleven years old and still going strong. There is a Ryan’s Well Foundation. His dream has changed the lives of so many people, most of whom we will never meet. That special day in Uganda was one of the happiest days of my life, and it will live in my heart forever. Ryan ended that special day the same as usual, with his nightly prayer: “I wish for everyone in Africa to have clean water.” Ryan has shown me what the power of dreams can do.

Susan Hreljac
Kemptville, Ontario
As told to Darlene Montgomery

Look at Me Now, Dad

Y
ou tend to hit where you aim, so aim high!

Bob Templeton

It started when I was in high school. Growing up in the small town of Palmerston, Ontario, I had a dream: to work in television.

My parents had a little Stedman’s store, so we were definitely not fancy people. When I was in grade twelve, I went to a guidance counsellor who told me I could be a nurse, a teacher or a hairdresser. I thought they were all great careers, but I knew I really I wanted to work in television. I was too embarrassed to tell my counsellor, however, or anyone for that matter—except my parents. To me, it sounded like a dream that could never come true.

Thankfully, my parents had raised me and my siblings to have a lot of confidence. Both my parents, but especially my dad, often said, “You can do anything you want to do.” My dad believed in total equality, and he was particularly supportive of the girls in the family. He was my steady rock—always there for me. With his help and encouragement, I applied to the radio and television arts program at Ryerson in Toronto. I was ecstatic when I was accepted. I really loved the program and worked hard— and I was named the most outstanding graduate of 1969.

Just by getting into Ryerson and graduating at the top of the class I was already living my dream. I began to think that maybe the dream could come true. After I graduated, I worked for Bell Canada for a while, writing and producing commercials. I soon decided, however, that what I really wanted was to be on camera.

I went to the CBC and CTV and applied for a job. They both said the same thing: “We love your education, but you don’t have any experience. Come back when you get some!” And I kept saying, “How can I get this experience? I’ve been busy getting an education.” They both turned me down.

Luckily, Global Television had just started broadcasting in Canada that year. I thought to myself:
I’m new and they’re
new. I don’t know a soul there, so if I’m going to get to know one
person at Global, it might as well be the president.
It really boiled down to how badly did I want a job, and what was I willing to do? I found out who the president was and decided to call him cold. What could I lose? I was scared, but I knew deep down inside that this was what I wanted. When I called my dad and told him my plan, he said, “Good, Faye. That’s exactly what you should do.”

With my heart just about pounding out of my body, I called up the president of Global Television, spoke to his secretary and asked if I could speak to Mr. Slaight. She said sure! Suddenly Mr. Slaight was on the phone. I had practised what I was going to say. I had focused on and visualized my goal. I said, “I’ve heard that your studio facilities are amazing. I could come at eleven o’clock on Tuesday or eleven o’clock on Wednesday for a tour. What would suit you better?” I caught him totally off guard. He stuttered a bit, then picked a day. When I hung up, I was scared but elated.

At 11 o’clock on the appointed day, I arrived at the studio. Mr. Slaight took me around and introduced me to everybody. They must have thought I was someone very important—but I was just a girl from a small town of only seventeen hundred people. I had picked eleven o’clock on purpose, because I thought Mr. Slaight might invite me to lunch. Sure enough, after the tour he said, “Are you free for lunch?” Of course, I accepted.

We went to lunch at The Inn on the Park. When we sat down, he looked and me and said, “What do
you
want?” He sounded a little angry and frustrated—but very curious.

“All I want is a chance,” I said. “I just want a chance. If something on camera comes up at Global—I don’t care what—I want a chance to audition. I just want you to know my face, so that when my resume comes in you can put a face to it. That’s all I’m asking.”

I didn’t know whether I’d ever hear from him again, but three months later, his secretary called. “Mr. Slaight wants to know if you’d like to come and audition for a new game show,” she said. And I answered, “Sure I’ll come!”

When I arrived at the station, I went right into an audition for a new show called
Wintario.
Fred Davis, who was Mr. Canadian Television to me, was there along with various high-level management from the Ontario Lottery Corporation. They were looking for a certain chemistry between Fred and me, and had to make sure we would work well together on camera.

Everything went beautifully. Fred and I hit it off right away. I didn’t realize it until the next day, but they had hired me on the spot—but nobody told me! When I went back to the studio the following day, for what I thought was another reading, I was instead handed an airline ticket to Sault Ste. Marie to do the very first
Wintario
show. No one even told me officially that I had the job, but I had the job!

The next week Fred and I did the first
Wintario
show in Sault Ste. Marie. I was nervous.
What if I make a mistake?
What if I forget where I am?
This was live TV, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. And I was still in awe of Fred Davis. When I began to walk out on stage, however, and the negative thoughts entered my head. I replaced the negative thoughts with positive ones:
This is going to be
the best show ever,
I told myself.
You are going to just shine!

My positive thinking worked. It was a good show, Fred and I were great together, and I began to realize that night just how wonderful a man he really was. Fred has since passed away, but he was a great friend for many years.

At that time, 85 percent of Ontario households bought lottery tickets, so on Thursday nights, everyone tuned in to the show. With the proceeds of the lottery,
Wintario
helped build community centres, arenas and art galleries. And the people in small towns throughout Ontario just loved us.

During that first show, I thought of my parents at home watching, and said to myself,
Look at me now, Dad!
My parents later came to any shows nearby, but that first show in Sault Ste. Marie was just too far.

That was the beginning of the weekly travelling show that Fred and I did for the next twenty-two years. Altogether, I did 660 shows.

During the early years of
Wintario,
I also hosted a talk show and had about twenty commercials running at the same time. I had a lot of TV coverage. My dad would often say, “Faye, I knew all along you had this in you.”

When people came into his store he would ask, “So, did you watch
Wintario
last night? Did you see my daughter?” He talked to everybody about me being on television. I would hear about this from my mother, who is more quietly proud of me. When my parents went to Florida, dad would say, “I see you have Ontario license plates on your car. Do you watch
Wintario?
Well, that’s my daughter!” That’s how proud he was.

From
Wintario,
everything happened for me. I did a talk show at Global, I hosted the National Santa Claus Parade for fifteen years, I did hundreds of television commercials, a number of movies, training videos, travel shows and a business show. And everything came from finding the courage back in 1975 to make that one phone call.