He’s Yak-tastic.

As community leaders, we hope and we pray that a crisis never hits our community, that we never have to be with a family that is in desperate need. However, that is something that did happen in my community of Barrhaven in the city of Ottawa on March 6, when a woman—a mother—and her four children were murdered by a knife-wielding maniac.

My colleagues in Ottawa, we stood together with the remaining family member, the father of the four children and the husband of the woman, to mark the sadness and tragedy that befell him and our community.

I ask all members to think, if you’re a parent, about the children that you have reared and raised, because it’s one thing to see something on the news and to say what a terrible tragedy it is when four children die, but it’s quite another to remember that those children could have been our children. For example, a two-and-a-half-year-old child, Kelly, was murdered. I think any of us who have had a child remember a two-and-a-half-year-old, when they first learn to smile and they know who their mom and dad are, and they bring us so much joy. They’re worth every sleepless night.

There was a two-and-a-half-year-old child, Ranaya. I sat in front of her little, tiny white casket. Ranaya had this beautiful little smile. She looked like any two-and-a-half- or three-year-old would. The terrible twos: when they do something that you don’t want them to do, but they’re so cute, you laugh about it anyway.

Then there was the four-year-old sister. She was just beautiful. She had such a smile. Her name was Ashwini, and she had just started school. She was at that age where we remember our children becoming little people. They weren’t quite babies, they’re not quite big kids that go to elementary school, but they’re just starting out, and you’re starting to understand if they like the maths, the sciences, if they’re into English and reading books or if they like to draw and they’re more creative.

And then a grade 2 student, seven years old, a young boy, Inuka, who loved to play soccer with his friends and have lots of fun.

That’s who died in my constituency on March 6—senseless, tragic deaths.

And the family, though they were Sri Lankan and, of course, they were also Buddhist, I reminded them that they were also Barrhavenites.

From the 911 call from a neighbour, to the local police who attended on the scene, to the paramedics who looked after the victims as well as the father, who had to go to the hospital, the hospital staff and, of course, the nurses and doctors there, straight through to the teachers at Monsignor Paul Baxter School, who had to explain to all of the students there the next day why two of their seats, two of their desks were empty—no words can express their tragic circumstances.

All I can say: I know, Speaker, on behalf of every good person in this chamber, which every one of us is, we wish that their memories be a blessing and that justice may be served.

It’s a pleasure today to introduce two very important people to me. Many people here know these two individuals. The first one had her booties changed when she was learning how to walk upstairs and got a big cake when she was a page here: my daughter, who has now turned 19—she’s not a baby anymore like she was up in the gallery when I got first elected 18, 19 years—Victoria Varner. You can just wave to people.

The second person is my husband, Joe, who, of course, was my campaign manager over the past six elections. I fired him many times, but he has stood by me, particularly for the last couple of years when I’ve been sick. When I lost control, this guy took the driver’s seat and he looked after the wheel. He’s here today too. You can wave.