I turned my head to look out of the front of the bus and was suddenly taken completely by surprise. Screaming out at me in great black lettering were the words “Canada Number One Country in the World.” My eyes lit up, my heart gave a heave, and I felt a pang of homesickness so acute I actually almost hurt. I was so excited that it was all I could do to keep myself from leaping out of my seat and grabbing the newspaper from its owner.

As I learned within minutes (I did indeed beg to borrow the paper from the Dutchman who was reading it), this pronouncement was based on information collected by the United Nations from studies comparing standards of living for every nation in the world. Some people may have doubted the finding (what about Switzerland, Denmark, Sweden and even Australia or New Zealand?), but I didn’t, not for an instant.

Where else in the world can you travel by bus, automobile or train (and the odd ferry) for 10, 12 or 14 days straight and see a landscape that changes so dramatically, so spectacularly. The Newfoundland coast with its white foam and roar; the red sand beaches of Prince Edward Island; the graceful curves and slopes of Cape Breton’s Cabot Trail; the rolling dairy land of south shore Quebec; the peerless, uncountable maple-bordered lakes of Ontario; the haunting north shore of Lake Superior; the wheat fields of Manitoba and Saskatchewan; the ranch land of Alberta; the mountain ranges, valleys and lush rainforests of the West Coast. The list could go on for 10 pages, and still only cover the southern section of the country, a sliver of land compared with the North, whose immensity is almost unimaginable.

Have you ever seen the barrens of Nunavut? Have you ever laid eyes on northern bodies of freshwater vaster than some inland seas, titans like Great Bear and Great Slave Lakes? Have you ever seen the icebergs and whales of Hudson Bay, the gold sand eskers of northern Saskatchewan, northern Manitoba’s rivers, rapids, waterfalls and 10,000 lakes, all with water so clean you can dip your hand over the side of your canoe and drink it? Have you ever had the privilege of getting off a plane on a January day at a remote settlement in the Yukon and having the air hit your lungs with a wallop so sharp you gasp quite audibly – air so clean, so crisp you swear you see it sparkle pastel pink, purple and blue in the midmorning light?

It has been six years in a row now that the United Nations has designated Canada the number one country in which to live. We are so fortunate. We are water wealthy and forest rich. Minerals, fertile land, wild animals, plant life, the rhythm of four distinct, undeniable seasons, the North – we have it all.

Of course Canada has its problems. We’d like to lower our crime rate, but it is under relative control, and, the fact is, we live in a safe country. We struggle with our health-care system, trying to find a balance between universality and affordability. But no person in this country is denied medical care for lack of money, no child need go without a vaccination. Oh yes, we have our concerns, but in the global scheme of things we are so well off. Have you ever stopped to look at the oranges and apples piled high as mountains in supermarkets from Sicamous, B.C., to Twillingate, Nfld.? Have you paused to think about the choice of meat, fish, vegetables, cheese, bread, cereals, cookies, chips, dips and pop we have? Or even about the number of banks, clothing stores and restaurants?

And think of our history. For the greater part, the pain and violence, tragedy, horror and evil that have scarred for ever the history of too many countries are largely absent from our past. There’s no denying we’ve had our trials and times of shame, but dark though they may have been, they pale by comparison with events that have shaped many other nations.

Our cities, too, are gems. Take Toronto, where I have chosen to live. My adopted city never fails to thrill me with its racial, linguistic, cultural – not to mention lifestyle – diversity. On any ordinary day on the city’s streets and subway, in stores and restaurants, I can hear the muted ebb and flow – the sweet chorus – of 20 different tongues. At any time of day, I can feast on food from six different continents, from Greek souvlakia to Thai mango salad, from Italian prosciutto to French bouillabaisse, from Ecuadorian empanada to Jamaican jerk chicken, from Indian lamb curry to Chinese lobster in ginger and green onion (with a side order of greens in oyster sauce). Indeed, one could probably eat in restaurants every week for a year and never have to eat of the same cuisine twice.

And do all these people get along? Well, they all live in a situation of relative harmony, cooperation and peace. They certainly aren’t terrorizing, torturing and massacring one another. They’re not igniting pubs, cars and schools with explosives that blind, cripple and maim. And they’re not killing children with machetes, cleavers and axes. Dislike – rancour – may exist in pockets here and there, but not, I believe, hatred on the scale of such blistering intensity that we see elsewhere. Is Canada a successful experiment in racial harmony and peaceful coexistence? Yes, I would say so, proudly.

Much as I often love and admire the countries I visit and their people, I can’t help but notice when I go abroad that most people in France look French, most in Italy, Italian. In Sweden they look Swedish and in Japan they look Japanese. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. But where’s the variety? I ask myself. Where’s the mix, the spice, the funk?

Well, it’s here, right here in Canada – my Canada. When I, as an aboriginal citizen of this country, find myself thinking about all the people we’ve received into this homeland of mine, this beautiful country, when I think of the millions of people we’ve given safe haven to, following agony, terror, hunger and great sadness in their own home countries, well, my little Cree heart just puffs up with pride. And I walk the streets of Toronto, the streets of Canada, the streets of my home, feeling tall as a maple.

Photography by Kevin Kelly; illustration by Linda Montgomey