When Freda Leenders celebrated her 90th birthday in mid-March at her home in The Village of Arbour Trails, waves of well-wishers flowed in throughout the afternoon. Her children, grandchildren and two little great-grandchildren had travelled from as far away as Nova Scotia and British Columbia to be with her, and she was equally grateful to see faces from her long-ago past.
Reflections on life with Freda remind us of the extraordinary paths that shape the wisdom of ordinary people, graced with the beauty of age.
Freda was old enough during the Nazi occupation of Holland to form memories of that time, yet young enough to be sheltered from its darkest realities by her parents. She recalls the elation of liberation when Canadian soldiers arrived near the end of the war in Europe, and the struggles that followed for her farming family. While they may have weathered the war relatively well, the aftermath was a struggle and, like so many at the time, Canada beckoned. As a teenager, she made the journey with her family, settling in the rural community of Palermo, now part of the Town of Oakville.
“Holland was devastated,” Freda says. “We had to start all over again. We were lucky – a farmer sponsored us and had a house for us.”
“For us young ones,” she adds, “it was all exciting… coming over on a ship.”
Dutch families in the area became as one —looking out for and supporting each other. Freda became a caregiver for the farm family that sponsored hers, caring for the with four children. Jane was four when Freda first met her – she learned to speak English through interactions with her and her siblings, and Jane remained a constant throughout her life.
Nearly 80 years later, Jane was there at Arbour Trails to celebrate Freda’s 90th birthday.
Around that same time, another young Dutch couple arrived in the area, expecting their first child. Freda and her family helped them get settled, and when their daughter Patricia was born, Freda became her godmother. She made the baby’s baptismal dress by hand, beginning a lifelong bond.
Patricia, now in her 70s, was also in attendance, bringing with her a poem reflecting the generosity and adventurous spirit she has seen in Freda over the decades.
Such connections are the mark of a life well lived.
In that same close-knit community, Freda’s future husband Joe had also arrived from the Netherlands, settling with his parents and eight siblings. Their paths crossed through shared rides to church.
“I’ll never forget,” Freda says of the first time she saw him. “He was standing there combing his hair in front of a mirror they had brought from Holland.”
“I had just turned 15… he was 20.”
That mirror would become a fixture in their home, quietly reflecting a life built on love, faith and family.
Together, Freda and Joe raised their family and later travelled extensively, dedicating time and resources to mission work in several countries around the world, including The Dominican Republic. One young boy she met during those early trips left a lasting impression. Today, Victor is a dentist, working to provide care for children in the very community where he grew up.
Another life touched, another legacy carried forward.
When Freda speaks of community, she speaks just as warmly about her home at Arbour Trails, where she found support during Joe’s death a year before now.
She has her family. She has her community.
“And what more do you need?” she says.
There is a quiet, tragic beauty in how she reflects on that time. In his final days, Joe found comfort in simple joys – a visit from a therapy dog, music shared with loved ones. At his funeral, six granddaughters carried him up the steps of the Basilica.
“It was the most beautiful experience,” Freda says, her voice still carrying the weight of loss beneath her smile.
A conversation with Freda only begins to uncover the depth of her story, but it’s clear why so many gathered to celebrate her 90 years.
She talks of travelling again, perhaps back to see Victor and the community she and Joe helped build in the Dominican Republic.
“I really want to do more,” she says.
It is the extraordinary life of one ordinary person, and a reminder of how remarkable the lives of our elders truly are.
