‘There’s peace here’ Season’s messages of love, joy and family on full display at St. Vital group home for people living with intellectual and developmental disabilities By: Scott Billeck Posted: 5:00 PM CST Tuesday, Dec. 23, 2025

There’s a promise of warmth inside before anyone opens the door.

On the deck, a table wearing a thin layer of fresh snow has been transformed into a greeting.

“Happy Winter,” it reads, etched by hand and punctuated with a smiling face — a small, cheerful signal that there’s a sense of home that extends beyond the four walls of this house.

It’s four days before Christmas and the mood is festive. There are sounds of easy conversation and laughter as soon as the door opens and a visitor is welcomed inside, out of the cold.

Families have gathered with their loved ones, four women who share a group home run by Pulford Community Living Services, an organization that supports people living with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

The organization operates 36 similar homes both within and beyond the Perimeter Highway.

“It’s just like any other home,” says Sarah Shantz, of the place where her sister, Joanna Lorimer, 63, has lived since August 2020. “There’s peace here.”

A Christmas tree stands tall in a corner of the expansive living room, lit and ornamented, with wrapped gifts underneath. Blue, yellow, red and green lights trace the walls, while oversized paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling, gently swaying as people move through the space.

“It’s just like any other home… There’s peace here.”

Next to the tree, Lorimer sits comfortably in a recliner, a blanket tucked over her legs. She’s non-verbal, but hearing the word “Christmas” brings a smile to her face.

At this time of year, love and joy show up in small but meaningful ways here: in shared meals, familiar routines and the delight of being surrounded by people who know and care for one another. For those living with intellectual and physical disabilities, the holiday is less about spectacle and the material and more about belonging and connection.

On this day, relatives of three of the four residents have gathered, joined by the home’s support workers who, in many ways, are an extension of the families.

On one side of the room, Emily Hughes and her parents, Brian and Susan, chat with Francis Palmer and her daughter, Kim. Shannon Kakegamic, in a wheelchair like Kim’s, sits not far from Joanna’s recliner.

Like her, Kim, 50, has been living at the Wales Avenue residence for about five years. Before that, she lived at home with her parents.

Her mother was still working full time when COVID-19 hit. As the pandemic wore on, Palmer said she was losing her ability to balance work with the role of caregiver she had held for decades.

“I wanted to be there for her,” she says, choking back tears. “I feel like I was giving up or failing. I wasn’t being the proper mother.”

The move was traumatic for both.

“At first, I didn’t like it,” Kim says. “But I’ve gotten the hang of things.”

Kim is particularly fond of Christmas. She’s dressed for the season — a red sweater embroidered with the word “Merry,” paired with pants patterned with gingerbread men and Christmas trees.

Growing up, she loved waking up early to check her stocking, she says. Later in the day, the family would gather for seafood chowder and macaroni and cheese.

Kim takes as much joy in giving as receiving, and knows exactly what to get her three roommates.

“Joanna, I get her fidgets… she likes to play with them,” she says. “Emily likes to do art, so I get her something to help her with that. Shannon, I get her Tim Hortons.”

Emily, in her late 30s, is the youngest in the household. She, too, moved into the home during the pandemic.

To qualify for the type of supportive housing provided, parents “must be in crisis,” her mom Susan says. “That’s where I was.”

For Emily, the spot where she sits this afternoon — surrounded by conversation, decorations and familiar faces — is home.

“We have a cottage at the lake, and she comes with us every summer,” Brian says. “But after three days, she wants to come home.

“She misses home. She misses her friends.”

Moving into a home like the one on Wales reflects a natural transition of adulthood for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, much like moving out does for anyone else ready to leave their parents’ nest, says Catherine Gates, Pulford’s executive director.

“At first, I didn’t like it… But I’ve gotten the hang of things.”

“With the right supports in place, individuals can live in homes of their own while staying closely connected to family,” she says. “For families, this shift allows parents and siblings to focus more on just being ‘mom and dad’ or ‘brother and sister,’ rather than having primary responsibility for daily care.

“They are better able to balance their other responsibilities in life and have time for their own interests and community activities, while still remaining involved. It also provides long-term stability for the future, when families may no longer be able to provide support.”

Shannon’s story is different from that of her three roommates. While the others had family visiting, she did not, though she was far from alone.

A resident for nearly seven years, Shannon, who loves turkey and singing Frosty the Snowman, has lived at the residence longer than anyone else. She has family in the province but her mother does not live nearby.

“I know holidays can be a little bit of a touchy area,” says program supervisor April Byers. “So we just try our best to make sure that she feels that love and warmth from the staff.”

Pascale Ducharme, a program co-ordinator who has been with Pulford for nearly a decade, came in specifically to help fill the void.

“We have that sensitivity and plan and support her through it,” Ducharme says.

In Shannon’s case, that means she will often visit other homes where people in similar familial situations gather. Sometimes she hosts her own Christmas dinner.

Because group-home living is not widely viewed as the norm in society, Pulford strives, in all aspects of its work, to create living arrangements that reflect those of others living in the same community.

“It isn’t just manufactured,” Gates says. “People have friends, family, connections and community. They participate in events. They work. They are natural relationships.”

Gates says they don’t always get it right, though they often do. Ensuring the latter means listening to those they support.

“Finding out their hopes and dreams, how they like to spend their days, and within our capacity, give them opportunities so they have the best quality of life,” she says.

For Joanna, who has lived in multiple homes throughout her life, the current setting has been among the most impactful.

“This group of people that she’s been with has been life-changing in many ways,” Shantz says of her sister. “She’s just been so comfortable and feels so well cared for and so included that even though she doesn’t necessarily speak, she very much feels… part of the family.”

“She’s just been so comfortable and feels so well cared for and so included that even though she doesn’t necessarily speak, she very much feels… part of the family.”

Each family points in the same direction — to Byers, who has been a steady presence at the home for the past four years, building relationships grounded in trust and consistency. For the residents’ relatives, she’s something of a superstar.

“She is just amazing,” Francis says. “(My daughter) Kim has not been an easy person at times, but (April) is really working with me and Kim to make this experience as homey as possible. With April, knowing her and her personality, I’ve been able to develop that sense of trust.”

And that has allowed Francis to let go, just a little.

“I don’t have to be here doing everything for Kim,” she says. “I would always make sure I was the one who was going to all of Kim’s medical appointments. Now, I feel comfortable and leaving that for April when I’m not available.”

There’s a peace of mind, Shantz says.

“The one thing with Joanna is she’s terribly vulnerable,” Shantz says. “That’s always been the worry. What does that mean? We know if anything goes wrong, we’ll find out about it. All that worry that we carry has been lifted.”

A measure of peace, moments of joy, touches of home — all gifts that the families are thankful for this Christmas season.

scott.billeck@freepress.mb.ca