In 2022, while teaching part time, I was doing contract work for an organization called the Youth Wellness Network. It is an organization that implements mental health workshops in elementary and high schools within the Peel and the Toronto District School Boards.

In 2024, I met this young man named Mughir, when I was teaching Mental Health workshops at an alternative high school in Peel. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. It is a high school that is intended to meet the needs of students who are struggling within the regular high school. When he first introduced himself to me, I struggled to say his name so he said “Just call me Mo.” When I am working in high schools, I invite the students to call me Jill. Mo, however, suggested a different name for me, “I will call you Ms. Queen.” Ms. Queen? Hmmm, I thought that had a nice ring to it. To be honest, I think Mo first showed up for the free pizza, but something in my offerings and our conversations shifted something in him. Over my six week series, he never missed one of my sessions.

During the sessions Mo and I had the opportunity to chat and he shared many segments of his life story. Mo is originally from Syria. In 2009, because of ongoing conflict and many difficult circumstances he and his family left Syria and settled in Saudi Arabia. Mo was 5 at the time.

In 2017 he and his family travelled to the States. His parents were hoping to eventually move the family to Canada. When they applied to enter Canada, not all the family was not granted permission so his parents decided to send their 4 oldest children with plans that they would join shortly after as soon as the political paperwork that was stopping them was resolved. So Mo and his 3 older siblings arrived in Montreal at the age of 12. Since that day, his parents have applied countless time to enter Canada. Today Mo’s parents and younger siblings still remain in Saudi Arabia. When I met Mo last spring, he told me he had not seen his parents in 8 years. During our conversations he also shared how he has struggled in school and became friends with people who were not good for him. He confessed he made some mistakes and then said “you know Ms. It isn't easy growing up without parents. My siblings have tried to help but Ms. it isn’t the same”. He shared a story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, essentially he was trying to meet his need for a sense of belonging and ended up hanging out with a harmful crown. This led to him facing our judicial system with no parents, no lawyer and no Canadian citizenship. He said “Ms. I want you to know that Canada is a great country and I am lucky to be here, but Ms. I will tell you, Canada has a dark side too.” I silently nodded and then said, I believe you and I am so sorry that you have had such painful experiences in your 19 years. It was clear to me that he had experienced more challenges in his two decades than I have ever experienced in my 5 decades on the planet.

After I finished my 6 part series at Mo’s high school, Mo and I kept in touch via email. He was struggling to find work so I offered to edit his resume along with a few more tips in navigating the Canadian work force to which he was beyond grateful.

At the end of June, we met at a Tim Horton’s where he shared his celebration of graduating from high school.

He also expressed disappointment that I was not at his graduation ceremony. “Where were you Ms Queen?” I told him, “I’m so sorry, II didn’t know anything about it.” Mo said he asked Mr. Pearson, the principal, to invite Ms. Jill. He said, “I guess he didn’t think you would come because you had ankle surgery.” He said not many teachers or parents came to the graduation. He said when he received his diploma no one was there to clap for him. Instandly, in the middle of Tim Horton’s I started to clap.

He grinned. He also shared his job search disappointments and his recent move. He had moved out of his older sister’s home and was living alone, renting a bedroom in the basement of a house. I asked if he would like to come experience a day on the farm. “Yes Ms Queen“ he said, “I would like that very much.

The day before I was to pick him up he texted me to say his dad bought him an airline ticket: he is returning to Saudi Arabia to be reunited with his parents and younger siblings. The plan is he will visit for 6 months. I congratulated him and then suggested that perhaps I could treat him to a hair cut so he could look his best for this long overdue reunion?

I then brought him home to meet my family and see our farm. He enjoyed taking pictures of all the green space. He said, “Here, lots of green, in Saudi, lots of brown.”

On the morning of his departure, his plans to get to the airport fell through. He texted me in a panic. He was already so nervous about navigating the airport. I told him I would pick him up, park and show him how to check in and find security. I assured him it was all going to be ok. “Thank you Ms,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

We arrived a few hours early. I walked him through what he needed to know. As I went to leave he said, “Please Ms., please you stay with me until I go through security, yes? Please Ms.” The mother in me could not leave this young man who, for just a moment, suddenly seemed many years younger. Yes, I assured him, I would stay with him until he reached security.

We spent the next two hours continuing our many conversations about life. We shared our thoughts about Muslims, Christians, war, our thoughts on what is appropriate clothing for women to wear. Mo had more questions about the Canadian government, taxes, and my thoughts on relationships and marriage. We shared our hopes and dreams for the future both personally and globally.

We had several laughs, while also sharing a few deep contemplative silences.

Finally it was time for him to check in. At the baggage check in desk Mo had a misunderstanding of what the airline agent was asking him. Suddenly a supervisor arrived. There were concerns over the legitimacy of Mo’s documents. When it appeared he may not be permitted to fly, my heart sank and Mo responded with a jolt of anger. It was suddenly clear to me why I was to stay with him. I placed my hand on his arm and gave him a silencing look. Then I politely asked the supervisor what we could do. I said “This young man has not seen his parents in 8 years and he needs to get on that plane.” The supervisor took pictures of Mo’s documents, asked us to step aside and left to call higher authorities. Quietly I asked Mo if he saw what was on her name tag. He said no. I said it says “Supervisor” so right now, that woman is the critical link to you getting permission to get on that plane. We are going to speak to her with the utmost politeness when she returns. I told Mo it was understandable that he expressed some anger, however there are more effective ways we need to communicate to people when they have power over us.

The Airline attendant returned and told him he had been granted permission to board the aircraft. Expressing deep gratitude we finished checking in Mo’s suitcase. As we left the check out desk I said “Please remember calm and kindness in case anyone else questions you on the remainder of your travels.” “Yes Ms Queen, you are right.” “Thank you.” I said, “but my goal is not to be right, my goal is for you to arrive home safely.”

When we arrived at security, I reviewed with him the do’s and don’ts when going through airport security and what he needed to know to find his gate on the other side. In addition we reviewed what he will need to do to catch his connecting flight in Dubai. After I finished my check list of instructions I asked, “Have you got all of that?” Mo must have detected some sadness in me.

He smiled and said, “Don’t worry Ms. Queen, I will see you again in 6 months.”

“Yes,” I agreed, forcing a smile to hide some lingering doubt, “I will see you in 6 months.” Then we shared a hug. I asked him to please email me when he arrived. He promised he would. He then asked me, “Would you ever come to Saudi Ms? If so. my family treat you like a queen for all you do for me.” I told him I would consider adding Saudi Arabia to my list of travel destinations.

He smiled then joined the line of travellers waiting to enter security.

I watched him zig zag back and forth between gated barriers. As he offered one last smile, I returned a small wave. As he approached the security area, another airport security worker stopped him and asked to check his backpack. I had a sudden feeling of angst, why did they have to stop him? But then I saw Mo offer a big smile and willingly handed over his backpack. Oh my, what a fast learner this young man is. As he retrieved his backpack, he offered the security guard another wave and a smile then turned to join the other travellers in line. Behind moisture in my eyes, his silhouette suddenly blurred. Then amidst the crowd of fellow travellers all hurriedly placing their bags, jackets and shoes into grey bins, he was gone.

I turned and began the long walk back to locate my vehicle amidst countless cars in the concrete jungle. I was grateful that I had made note of the floor and letter on the pillar where I parked. As I was about to put my vehicle in drive, my phone dinged. It was Mo assuring me that he got through security and had found his gate, once again expressing his gratitude for all my help.

This was my response:

“I had a good day too. I love your questions about life. You are already learning things some people will never know. I sense your wisdom and appreciate your kindness. Please don’t worry about returning the favour. My hope is that you will help someone else the way I helped you. Love yourself, then pass on that love to others. That is how we heal our world. Safe travels my friend. I imagine your mother is eagerly awaiting to see you. She is so fortunate to have you as her son. I know you will treat her like a Queen.”

Mo emailed me two days later to assure me he had arrived safely in Saudi and was now reunited with his family.

My short time with Mo changed me forever. How could two people, born of different religions and countries, different gender, with incredibly different life experiences and over 30 years apart in age, discover such deep connection?

My answer?

We were able to communicate for the purpose of understanding, we were able to share our thoughts without needing to be right. We had no agenda to change the other’s ways and beliefs. We could have listened to each other through a filter of the stories we already had in our heads about Muslims or Christians, about Syrians or Canadians, about young people or old or not-so-old people. Insead we put those stories down and instead truly listened to the human being in front of us who shares the same universal needs.... the need to be seen, to be heard, to matter, to contribute, to belong.

I have witnessed how easily humans can fall into mental anguish regarding the state of our world. “What can we do about all the conflicts in the world?” we ask.”What can we do about all the hungry people?” My answer is this: Do what is right in front of you. Feed the hungry with however many loaves of bread and fish you have. Feed people physically with food, emotionally with kindness or spiritually with your words of acceptance and love. See the good in everyone. Recognize the judgements we hold in our minds about others. See past the stories and instead see the light in others, especially when they are struggling to see it in themselves.

Shine your light and be of service wherever and whenever you can.

All the best Mo. Until we meet again…

Mo and Me

Jill McPherson