The Hero Accountant and the Mystery of the Canadian Identity

He shuffles to the desk,
Hesitant and shy,
Cranes his neck to see the man:
A sort of intimidating guy.

"Name, please." he spits
In a monotonous tone.
"Er… Smith" he replies,
Our hero's voice all alone.

"Occupation." he then asks
Behind the desk, mundane.
"Accountant..." says the hero
His nerve begins to feign.

"Country." he asks next,
This giant behind the booth.
"Err…Canada" is the reply,
His words a little bit uncouth.

"Canada?" he queries.
A puzzled look upon his face.
"Yes, Canada," he responds,
"You know… that northern, cold place."

"Hmm…" ponders the man,
Stroking his chin as well.
"I don't recall such a country,
The name doesn't ring a bell."

Our hero is surprised;
Hadn't heard of Canada before?
How could he describe it?
So he thought a little more.

"Well, for one," he began,
"A large land, it covers a great deal,
Forests, rivers, fields, and farms
Lakes and mountains...", his little spiel.

"Hmm…" said the man,
And thought about the words just said.
"Well, the landscape does sound nice
But of Canada, I have not read."

"Does it have a different style,
A unique culture, a tradition?
Tell me, son," he said, calmly,
"What makes you a Canadian?"

Our hero started, stopped
And was stumped with no reply.
What was it that made him Canadian?
A good answer, he could not supply.

Was it that beaver animal?
Small, yet strong and tough.
Was it the weather, food, trees, houses,
The cities and all that stuff?

A country of immigrants Canada was;
A real hodge-podge of folkways.
Our hero, an accountant, couldn't claim
That he had lived many unique days.

"Well, it doesn't sound important,
What, with no individuality and such.
I'd have to say Canada sounds like… well,
A boring place… yes, just a touch."

The man behind the desk frowns,
Disapproving of our hero.
"With no identity, son, your chance
Of getting in here, is zero."

The meek accountant sighs, shrugs
A bit of a pushover he was,
He turns to leave the waiting queue,
When suddenly, a pause,

"Canada does have an identity!
A special and unique one, at that!
We're a generally peaceful society, too
With little to no combat

We have a variety of regions,
Many different domains.
An assortment of landscapes, too
A diversity that is quite plain.

We're a medley of culture, sure
A grand combination of ways.
We're a mishmash of uniqueness
The most multicultural of today!

The gatekeeper, aghast,
Behind the booth, eyes wide.
"So what you mean to say is,
Your difference is your pride?"

"Yes," smiles the hero,
Happy his point got through.
The desk-man let the gates open,
And our hero walks through them,
A Canadian true.