Hon. Pamela Wallin: Honourable senators, on behalf of Senator Richards who could not be here today, these are his words of tribute to Viola Léger:

I saw her perform only one time — a number of years ago now — when I was artist-in-residence at St. Thomas University, and she came to the small, intimate stage, sitting on a chair under one light, dressed as La Sagouine, speaking — this time — in English. We surrounded her on three sides, mostly students but professors as well, and she spoke Antonine Maillet’s great monologues in a voice that was not only hers, not only Antonine’s and not just Acadian — though, of course, it was Acadian — but a voice that became, over the hour, ours as well. That is, I knew her as I knew my grandmother from Matapédia or my Acadian great-grandmother. Slowly, it became our voice too and, as the hour progressed, mesmerizing.

She was an old lady, a fisherwoman born of the bay, a scrubwoman far away in New Brunswick, a part of some rustic backwoods region — what could she ever have to offer sophisticated people? Well, you see, everything, everything in the world — whatever God intended us to know, understand or cherish.

She slowly filled that small stage — and that group that surrounded her on three sides — with charm, wit, laughter and, in the end, a deep understanding of both the great joy and great sorrow of our world. The audience of young boys and girls — boys and girls from another age — listened with reverence. She had the spirit of a woman who celebrated the spirit of all mankind — a joyful celebration that we, in fact, share far more in our common humanity than we could ever imagine.

Monologues were delivered with such impeccable understanding of “how” — that is how stories are related, and why they must be told the way they are; that is how human beings relate to one another and the world around them. Yes, this was the great Antonine Maillet’s writing, of course, but it was Ms. Léger’s delivery that brought it to life. In that moment, I suppose the two women were as one — the wonderful friendship between them that had started half of a century before were transformed by those words on that bare stage.

Though I had known Antonine Maillet for some time, and though Peg and I were invited to l’Université de Moncton for a celebration on the fortieth anniversary of La Sagouine, I never got to speak to or meet Ms. Léger. I wish I had. I always thought I would have a chance. Of course, as life would have it, I never did. Still, I will never forget that little washerwoman on stage for that one hour, surrounded by us all — with one light shining on a hunched and noble soul as she confided in us a gracious and eloquent wisdom. It was the wisdom that Tolstoy himself understood: There is no greatness without goodness, kindness and simplicity.

What might I have said if I had met her? I would have told her that her little washerwoman is universal, and like “The Song of Joy,” “Amazing Grace” or “Oh Danny Boy,” her monologues can be understood by anyone from any language — flying any flag over any country — and all one needs in order to understand such a grand old woman is love.

Hon. Pamela Wallin: Honourable senators, this morning, thousands gathered in Toronto to bury Constable Andrew Hong, gunned down because he wore a uniform. The horror in Portapique in Nova Scotia — senseless, brutal murders and testimony that catalogues police inaction, confusion and perhaps even deliberate denial of the events that unfolded. Earlier this month, the horrific events in my own province have left all too many families in unbearable pain on James Smith Cree Nation and in Weldon.

But in many small communities and neighbourhoods, there is fear. Seniors are trapped in their homes, locking their doors and daring not to venture out for groceries or a doctor’s appointment. Kids can’t walk alone to school, dance lessons or football practice. Time and again, neighbours, friends or teachers saw the warning signs: broken homes, drug use, gangs. But they did not know how — or did not dare — to intervene.

In this country, police have not often faced mass killing sprees or people who have no fear of consequences. Communications always seem too little too late, and police too often speak in a language that reassures nobody. Too often, we are left with no answers as to the why of it all.

The accused, Myles Sanderson, had a long history of drug and alcohol abuse and some 59 crimes over two decades, including convictions for assault, assault with a weapon, assaulting a police officer, uttering threats, mischief and robbery. Though he was hiding in plain sight, his parole officer had not been able to find him since May. Chief Burns at James Smith Cree Nation has vowed to act and has asked for more money for tribal policing and long-term mental health supports. As well, Chief Burns wants the inquiry to find out why Myles Sanderson was back in the community in the first place. The Parole Board of Canada released Sanderson on February 1, saying that he would “not present an undue risk to society.”

Both criminals and especially their victims need timely justice and laws that can be equally applied. People who commit crimes need to take responsibility for their actions, and our justice and legal systems need to see that they do. Yes, more money poured into programs, counsellors and police forces will help, but this is about something deeper. It’s about the disintegration of families and social norms and our responsibilities to one another. It will take hard work, honesty and courage to change the circumstances that combine and combust into these senseless acts of violence. We need to act for all our own sakes.

[Translation]

Hon. Pamela Wallin: Honourable senators, as the former Governor General said yesterday, the Queen — amongst many attributes — was always intentional. I love that description. She did indeed always act with purpose, and was seen but seldom heard — in the sense that she was never heard pontificating in public. But behind the scenes she led and guided presidents and prime ministers to not just rise above politics, but to do the right thing.

I had the great good fortune to meet the Queen on half a dozen occasions, covering royal tours and the Constitution. I am honoured to have received medals that bear her name on four occasions. I have watched in awe as she weathered storms. I took strength from her steely determination and her strength of character through the worst that life brings. We have all had those “annus horribilis.”

The first time I saw the Queen, I was about five. My sister and I got new and matching dresses. As she drove by in a convertible, she was just like a movie star — I thought, anyway, having never met a queen or a movie star. But my grandmother was having none of that. The Queen was to be respected. We were to remember her service through the war as a mechanic. We were to be quietly in awe.

The next time I met her, I had just returned from three months in Argentina covering the Falklands/Malvinas war. The Queen’s son Andrew had gone there to serve and fight. The Queen was on one of her many royal tours in Canada. This one was in British Columbia. Lloyd Robertson and I were there for the special coverage of the royal visit and were invited to a small reception onboard the royal yacht. Under no circumstances was I to broach the subject of the war — but I did. Her face immediately warmed as she spoke of a mother’s fear when a child goes to war, and we chatted easily about other things. She was always like that. She had an enviable ability to make you — millions of you — feel special.

Over the past many days, we have mourned and marked the inevitable. More than 5 billion people watched her funeral. Yet, as we mourned, we also celebrated a life, not just well lived but lived in service.

My heart ached for the family last night. A good friend of mine who was with them said that her children, and particularly King Charles, were profoundly sad as they reunited Queen Elizabeth with her husband, Prince Philip — but responding as children and as a son, not as a king. Charles knowing that he would never see his mom again or seek her advice, and knowing that there was no one to tell him what to do now — that was profoundly sad.

King Charles has sponsored several programs with which I am involved. Prince’s Operation Entrepreneur, through the Prince’s Trust — which I hope the new Prince of Wales carries on — is a program for veterans in need of help to transition to the civilian world. He has also sponsored a program that rescued young Afghan schoolgirls and brought them to Saskatoon to give them a second chance at life.

The Queen was an original: She was an inspiration, and she invented the modern monarchy. It will never be the same — it can’t be. She did live an intentional life, and she changed ours in the process. Her wit, warmth and keen intelligence should always be our guide. She was truly a moral compass.

As expectations and standards of leadership seem to decline in our world today, it should be our challenge now to raise them up again. It will be a show of respect for her and a way to honour her incredible service to us.

So, thank you, Ma’am. We send you victorious.