SLOWLY IT DAWNED ON HIM. The conductor on the train from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Kitchener, Ontario, was calling out his name. He had a scary thought—if after four years of studying English in the Netherlands, he could not even recognize his own name, how was he ever going to understand anything in this new country? But here he was, 18 years of age, getting off the train in the middle of the night at one of the tiniest railroad stations he had ever seen—where people spoke English. Uncle Arts journey was just beginning, filled with unexpected twists and turns.