Pedro Bonatto

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Wartime Birthday Gift

In the morning of my 43rd birthday, I dug up a ship manifesto from 142 years ago. There you would find the name of a 12 year-old boy, Sebastiano Bonatto. Arriving at one of the ports in Brazil with his parents, brothers and sisters, along with thousands of people fleeing war in Europe, he would eventually become my great-great-grandfather. My ancestors were farmers, and came with almost nothing. The government gave them a small piece of land, where hope was planted. 

People like Sebastiano and his own children changed Brazil forever. The states that received refugees and immigrants became the most prosperous and innovative in the country. Having lived in Canada, a country that, in my opinion, mastered the art of receiving folks from other parts of the world, I feel a duty to return the favor that was given to me in Canada and to my ancestors that came to Brazil a century and a half ago.

I’ve been helping refugees and people in Ukraine as I can since the start of the war, 25 days ago. I connected people, I gave some cash, I wrote about my thoughts, and I am creating art to help.

Yesterday I received the best birthday present I could ever have. I got news that about 30 Ukrainians where arriving in Curitiba, my home town in the south of Brazil, and that my good friend Anne Louise Caron had gathered supplies for these folks. Like me, she is a ‘connector’, and she managed to mobilize local businesses and religious charities to give some thoughtful items to the Ukrainians arriving: toys for kids, new fresh towels and bed sheets, diapers, personal items, food, all those little things that make all the difference when you’ve been through hell. That brought tears to my eyes. Later she would tell me that something I wrote a couple of weeks ago (has it been that long?), inspired her to move and find ways to help. In that text, I mentioned that even if we help one little girl get through a difficult night, that could be the key to her survival. And maybe to a good life, and the life of her own children.

Last night 30 Ukrainians were able to take a nice shower in their new homes in Curitiba, play with new toys, enjoy a warm Brazilian meal, sleep in clean beds, without the sounds of bombs in their ears.

It may not seem much. But last night, a number of new immigrant Ukrainian families were welcomed by the children of immigrants from centuries ago. I imagined how much better Brazil, and the world, would be, if my ‘grandpa’ Sebastiano would have received such welcome. 

Thank you Anne for reading my words, but mostly for making them come true. That was all you. Thank you to the religious folks that went beyond prayers to help, being actually true to your beliefs. Thank you to the businesses that gave the thoughtful items, because trade is the only way to bring prosperity and peace. 

You inspire me to keep helping, keep going, and learning to be an artist in wartime. We’ll keep fighting. Слава Україні!



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