Read the first part here.
Tracing the Past, Forging the Future
From Bergen op Zoom, we travelled to the Overloon War Museum, which told the story of World War II through immersive exhibits and more tanks than I ever thought I’d see in one place. It was both overwhelming and grounding. The scale of conflict was massive, but the stories inside were personal – lives interrupted, families torn apart, courage found in impossible moments.
To balance the weight of that day, we visited Efteling, a fairy-tale theme park full of magic and whimsy. But what I didn’t expect was for one of the most impactful moments of the trip to happen here.
As I walked through the park, a little Dutch girl tapped me on the back of my leg. She pointed at the Canadian design on my sweater and smiled. Without a shared language, she somehow asked if I would trade pins. I’d brought a bag of Canadian pins and bracelets for this very reason – just in case. As we exchanged tokens, I handed her a small maple leaf bracelet. She beamed. Her brother joined us, and then another little boy. Soon, their parents appeared – speaking only a little English – but it didn’t matter. We communicated with kindness, with gratitude, and with heart.
I’d also brought a Netherlands flag for people I met to sign. The children and parents added their names in wobbly letters and sweet little hearts. That flag, now covered in Dutch signatures and symbols of connection, has become one of my most treasured possessions. In a theme park built for fun, we built something real. That moment reminded me that history isn’t always passed down through textbooks. Sometimes, it’s traded on a sunny day between strangers who become stories.
Memories of War: Belgium and Vimy Ridge
In Belgium, we toured Ypres, home of the In Flanders Fields Museum and countless WWI memorials. The exhibits were breathtaking and brutal, full of audio clips, artifacts, and faces that reminded us these weren’t just soldiers. They were sons, brothers, poets, and students.
That evening, we visited the Canadian site at Passchendaele. Technically, it’s Canadian soil – gifted to our country in thanks. Standing there, I felt pride and pain. This was history we inherited, and it was ours to protect.
Next, we stood on sacred ground at Vimy Ridge. I had learned about the ridge in history class. Vimy Ridge is one of the most significant achievements in Canada’s military history. In 1917, Canadian forces captured the area in a successful and carefully planned offensive, accomplishing what the Allies had previously been unable to achieve. The victory at Vimy Ridge was the first major battle where all four Canadian divisions fought together as a unified force. The battle came to symbolize Canada’s emerging national identity and its sacrifice on behalf of others. Standing there – on the very soil where Canadians achieved what many thought impossible – I felt a shift. The limestone monument soared above us, its sculptures grieving, remembering, honouring.
Walking through the preserved trenches and tunnels gave me a physical understanding of war that no textbook ever could. The view was beautiful – but it was the stories beneath our feet that stayed with me.
A Special Memory from Paris
Paris was a whirlwind of culture, history, and beauty. We rode the Metro like locals (eventually mastering its chaos), stood beneath the Eiffel Tower, admired Notre Dame, and wandered the Louvre. We explored Montmartre, where art spilled out of every corner.
A personal highlight was sitting for a portrait. The kind local artist asked about home, and I showed him a photo of my dog Zoey, who we lost two years ago. When he handed me the finished painting, Zoey included, I felt a wave of emotion. It was like she’d been with me every step of the way, keeping me safe and close to home. It was the perfect gift to bring my parents—and a piece of her I’ll carry with me forever.
What Remains—and What Comes Next?
This trip wasn’t just a highlight of my high school experience – it was a defining moment in my life. It deepened my love for history, clarified my path toward a future in Human Sciences, and gave me tangible memories that will inform my studies and perspectives as I complete the IB Program.
More than anything, it made the world feel smaller – and kinder. In every country, through every story, I was reminded of the power of culture, courage, and connection. As a proud Finnish-Canadian, I saw echoes of home in every celebration of national pride: in Dutch parades, in Belgian memorials, and in the French artists who painted the world as they saw it. I thought about our own traditions in Thunder Bay – saunas, Saint Urho’s Day, homemade pulla – and how they connect us to something greater than ourselves.
Being in Europe made me want to do more. It sparked countless conversations among us students – about privilege, civic duty, the world’s conflicts today, and what we owe to future generations. We weren’t just tourists, we were torchbearers. I now feel a heightened responsibility to keep these stories alive, to stay engaged in my community, and to ensure that the peace and opportunity we often take for granted remains intact for those who come next.
To the Dutch people: thank you for your overwhelming hospitality and the lessons in gratitude.
To my teachers: thank you for your patience, wisdom, and ability to keep 37 teenagers from getting permanently lost in Paris (and two in Belgium—but we found our way back, I promise).
To my Finnish-Canadian community: thank you for being my foundation, my identity, and my reason for celebrating heritage.
And to every soldier who laid the path beneath our feet: thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
This trip wasn’t just something I’ll remember. It’s something I’ll carry with me – into every conversation, every vote, every act of kindness, and every effort to shape a better world.
And if nothing else, I now know how to read European directions under pressure – which is a life skill I never expected to gain on a history trip. But then again, this journey was full of the unexpected. It was a once-in-a-lifetime, heart-expanding, perspective-shifting experience that reminded me of who I am, where I come from, and what kind of future I want to help build.
