July 1, 2008 Toronto SUN
On this Canada Day, as on virtually every day of the year, Rose Williams counts her blessings.
She lives in the Jane-Finch corridor, infamous for its violence, its gangs and its guns, its drug dealers and its oft-headlined desperations, and yet she still feels "blessed" -- her word -- that this country has provided her with opportunity and a home she can afford.
That home is on the 10th floor of a Toronto Community Housing project, off Jane and just north of Finch, that has not been immune to bad news.
She lives on an old-age pension of $1,200 a month.
Her rent just went up to $407 a month.
Rose Williams is 67.
"I am blessed to have money in the bank," she says. "It's not very much, but I do not need very much."
Her apartment is a cluttered bachelor unit, with a balcony overlooking the playground of a school.
Now that school is out for the summer, Rose Williams says she will miss the laughter that wafts upwards, and the joy of watching children play.
There are four locks on her door.
There is even a chain lock on her closet.
"It's where I keep all my pretty dresses," she says.
A few days ago, someone "pickpocketed" Rose Williams' electronic door key and, because there wasn't much to steal in her tiny apartment, they stole the pillows off her bed.
"I can replace pillows," she says. "But they also took the essay I wrote long ago about becoming a Canadian citizen.
"And I can't replace that."
Rose Williams came to this country from Jamaica in November, 1971, one month shy of her 32nd birthday. Her 12-year marriage was in tatters, and so she left, promising her four young sons she would save every penny she could, and "send for them one at a time."
And she did save every penny.
But they didn't add up to enough.
"I don't know how many Christmases went by that I didn't find myself crying for them," she says.
Those boys are all grown up now, ranging in age from 50 down to 40. Two eventually immigrated here on their own, the other two went to the United States.
One is a mortgage consultant in Mississauga; the other a foreman at an industrial complex.
"They understand the tough times I had now," she says. "But they didn't understand so much back then."
In 1978, Rose Williams swore the oath and became a Canadian citizen, and she still carries the now tattered card in her purse, in case anyone dares to ask.
"It was one of my proudest days," she says. "See, there's my name on the card ... Rose Monica Williams.
"What a great country this is. Where else would they take care of a person like me? When you are sick, no one asks for money to make you better -- not the doctor, not the hospital. People care about each other here.
"People here are blessed."
The last job Rose Williams had ended four years ago at the age of 63. She worked the midnight shift at the nearby Zellers, restocking shelves until long after dawn.
Prior to that, she was a chambermaid at the now-gone Inn On The Park, a fitting-room attendant at Eatons, and a receptionist at a day care -- often working two jobs at once in order to wire $50 here, and $50 there, back to Jamaica.
"It was easier to come to Canada when I came," she says. "If I tried to come now, and I was the same age as I was back then, they probably wouldn't have taken me.
"I got pregnant for the first time in high school, and I never finished my final year," she explains.
"Who would want someone like me now?"
Rose Williams returned to school late in life. She went to George Brown College, and took a course that saw her rise at the Inn On The Park to housekeeping "inspectress."
And then she took a night course at Ryerson to give her bookkeeping a boost, all which saw her promoted at the hotel one more time to assistant housekeeping manager.
"I tried my best to better myself," she says.
She talks about some of the things she has done in this city; small things to many, but joyous to her.
"I took the ferry to Centre Island once," she says. "My, how beautiful and peaceful it is there. And I went to the top of the CN Tower and, oh, what a marvellous view.
"And I will always remember going to Roy Thomson Hall and seeing The King and I, with Yul Brynner."
Yul Brynner died in 1985.
"I know," she says. "But who could ever forget him?"