Dear President Trump,
I wanted to take a moment, between shoveling snow and apologizing for existing, to thank you for something truly remarkable: You have united Canada. Not politically, not economically, not even spiritually—but in a deep, existential, Tim Hortons double-double-fueled way that transcends provinces, poutine recipes, and hockey rivalries. So from the 49th parallel north, I say: Merci beaucoup!
Because you have, in your own uniquely spectacular fashion, created a unified country. Not by treaty or referendum, but by a shared ripple of disbelief, bemusement, and defensive patriotism. From Nova Scotia’s lobster fishers to Saskatchewan’s wheat growers, from Ontario’s suburban bakers to British Columbia’s kelp-designed charcuterie board makers, we find ourselves speaking in one collective tongue, harnessing a singular voice that says: “Did that just happen?”
Before you, our family gatherings were gently uproarious. A cousin in Calgary lecturing about oil-sands economics, an aunt in Montreal expounding in elegant French-English hybrid—a few tabarnaks sprinkled in for good measure—about culture and identity, a grandfather in Newfoundland muttering about how things were simpler back in his day. We disagreed on bagged milk, the proper pronunciation of “about,” and whether the Leafs would ever win the Cup again. And, you know, that whole Quebec City secession thing. Then you came along and suddenly all of that ended. We became united by spectacle. By your speeches and posts that became our campfire readings. By your antics that became our Sunday morning brunch topic.
Even more wondrous, we found ourselves rallying around a common theme: “Okay, perhaps we really are Canadian in the best way.” Friendly. Apologetic. Slightly baffled. And above all, subtly smug: “Look at us, staying respectful while watching those American political fireworks explode all over the world. Pretty crazy, eh?”
In fact—and here’s where it gets delightfully ironic—your recent decision to refuse to continue trade talks with Canada only tightened our bonds. Recently, you wrote on Truth Social that “ALL TRADE NEGOTIATIONS WITH CANADA ARE HEREBY TERMINATED” with all the bluster of a child in grade 1 getting their Smarties taken away. This, after our great Ontario province played an ad featuring OG MAGA President Ronald Reagan criticizing US tariffs. Earlier this year, you also halted further talks over Canada’s planned digital services tax on US tech firms. So, what happened to our country in the wake of all this? Canadians who once wondered, “Should we buy milk in a bag or a carton?” began to speak in harmony. “Whatever happens south of the border, we’ll talk amongst ourselves later,” we said in a collective hum.
My family, once divided by provincial pride and accent subtlety, now texts each other daily. “Did you hear what he said?” “Have you seen the tariffs?” “Hey—the Maple Leafs still suck, but at least we can watch them together.” At dinner in Montreal, my aunt and Calgary cousin paused their friendly jabs about second-rate poutine restaurants and oil-patch economics and agreed: “He certainly… does things.”
That’s unity. That’s us. The True North/Land of Maple.
And so, Mr. Trump, merci. Thank you for being the accidental glue. Thank you for reminding us who we are: a country that might courteously nod at your pronouncements, raise an eyebrow, then calmly go back to being Canadian. All while watching everything unfold. Thank you for giving our families something to orbit around during holidays besides “Who’s making the tourtière this year?” or “Why was Quebec City the first recognized UNESCO World Heritage Site in our great land?” (This topic still baffles us, to be fair.)
If you ever find your way north of the border, rest assured you will be welcomed with open arms and a queue de castor, followed immediately by a Canadian-style apology and a side of maple-syrup-drenched kindness. We’ll offer you a warm greeting, a mild discussion about climate, and a gentle suggestion: Maybe, just maybe, you could reconsider those trade negotiations. But politely.
With gratitude, respect, and a Caesar,
Your Amicable and Unified Neighbor Up North, Henrick
