Beauceville meets Beauceville! - Part 6
- Isabelle Morin
- Feb 8
- 4 min read
Updated: Feb 9
If you had told 12‑year‑old me, back in 1984, when I watched the Olympics for the very first time, that one day I would stand right behind the athletes’ parade at an Opening Ceremony, I would have answered without hesitation: “No way!” And yet… here I am. So I want to start this post by telling you the following: First : believe that the things you want are possible. Second, find out what is the path to make it a reality. Finally : Make it happen!!!" The cover page of my Facebook account has a famous Tony Robbins quote:
If you talk about it, it is a dream
If you envision it, it is possible,
But if you schedule it, it is a reality!
When I began this adventure, I made a decision very early on: I was going to the Olympic Games in Milan—volunteering or not. So I put it on my schedule. Little did I know that not only would I go… I would live this dream to the absolute fullest. Here’s how my second shift as an Olympic volunteer unfolded.
Backstage at the Opening Ceremony
We had to arrive at the stadium for 14:30, but not wanting to risk being late, we left at 12:30 and arrived by 13:30. Lunch had been chaos the previous time, so we were told to pick up our box lunch early and return to the stadium to eat. Then came the waiting, until 16:30, when we were brought to the athletes’ holding area. Dave and a few other volunteers were asked to help bring over the “follow‑me” signs. There were 22 signs and 22 volunteers, perfect, since at rehearsal we’d only had two, which was nowhere near enough. But when it came time to head to our assigned spots, our group leader handed out only four signs and said, “We have enough.” I stared at her, baffled. “Shouldn’t we take more? There are plenty.” “No, this is enough,” she insisted. I looked at the pile again and thought, absolutely not. So I quietly grabbed an extra one. A tiny act of rebellion… that would turn out to be very useful.
The Parade Begins
At 18:00, spectators were let in, and we had to be in position. Nothing much happened until the show officially began at 20:00. Since athletes only entered the stadium about 40 minutes into the ceremony, we waited some more. Because these Olympics are so spread out, many countries didn’t have athletes physically present—they paraded in their respective villages and appeared on the giant screen instead. But the first big group to arrive in person—no surprise—was Team Canada.
They made their entrance, walked onto the main stage, and then exited the spotlight directly in front of us. I could have reached out and touched them—they were that close. Our instructions were clear: no photos, no touching, no talking unless spoken to. The “no touching” rule evaporated instantly when several athletes reached out for high‑fives.
Of course, my eyes immediately searched for Marie‑Philip Poulin. She was toward the back of the group. I couldn’t help myself—I called out, “Go Marie‑Philip, la fille de Beauceville!” She looked over, smiled, and continued toward her seat. That tiny moment made my night.
After Canada’s entrance, the real work began. Two female athletes asked for early departure, so I escorted them to the exit. Then a dozen Canadians needed to use the restroom. I had already told my fellow volunteers that I wanted to escort as many Canadians as possible, and they (mostly) let me. At the restroom, the long line gave me time to chat. I quickly regretted not doing my homework, other than Marie‑Philip, I barely knew who was on the team. One gentleman told me, in French, that he competed in long‑track speed skating. I told him I’d be volunteering at his venue and memorized his face so I could look him up later. (It was David Larue!)
Later, I escorted two women from the hockey team. Of course I mentioned I was from Beauceville—the same hometown as their captain. My photographic memory tells me it was probably Emma Thompson. When I told Dave about it afterward, he asked, “Did you tell her to send MPP to come see you?” I laughed. “I wish!”
The Moment I’ll Never Forget
About twenty minutes later, I saw another Canadian athlete approaching. I stared, then whispered to Dave, “This is Marie‑Philip. I’m going to escort her.” I stepped forward to greet her, but before I could say a word, she asked: “You’re the one from Beauceville?”
My heart nearly burst. She asked about my volunteer job, and I told her I was at speed skating but would be attending four of her games—including the gold medal match. She gave me a high‑five. When she asked my name, I told her I was Gilles Morin’s daughter. Her face lit up. “Oh, it’s you!”
I knew her mother had seen my blog—my mom had shared it with her—but I never expected Marie‑Philip herself to recognize me, especially on such a huge night.
Our exchange lasted only a couple of minutes. I asked Dave to snap a quick photo (our supervisor was not impressed with my rule‑breaking). When I finally asked if she needed the restroom, she said the most beautiful sentence I heard that night—maybe this entire year: “No, I only came back here to talk to you.” I walked back to my spot and pretended to faint so my volunteer friends would understand the magnitude of what had just happened.
There is so much more to say about the Opening Ceremony, but this post is already long—and I need to head to my second shift at the speed skating arena.
Stay tuned for Part 7. You’ll want to hear about the early departures ending at 2200hrs...Ya, right!
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