A Leap of Faith and Counting Stars (Part 2)

Last week, I wrote about the first part of my family’s experience of being involved in a student exchange program. Witnessing a 15 year old young man coming into an unknown culture reminded me of how courageous we can be, and how amazing the spirit of our children is. For Gilad, and then for my daughter, to fly literally across the world to live with people they have never met, where the language is not their own, and where they have no one but themselves to fall back on, is an incredible act of guts and strength. Although my daughter knew Gilad when she left for Israel, she only knew a handful of words in Hebrew. To top it all off, she was raised in the Catholic religion and therefore lacked much knowledge of the Israeli religious or cultural background. As with Gilad six months before, I was awed by her “chutzpah” in making this journey.


There are so many experiences that I’d love to share from her two and a half months in Israel. The culture of community and connection between the people of Israel was far deeper and more authentic than anything she had experienced in the United States. For the most part, she has been fortunate enough to have been in a small school environment from a very young age, and for most of her life has had very tight neighborhood bonds. But in Israel, she was able to experience a different type of community with the children and the adults, where there was a profound respectfulness shown to each other. Honoring the connection between young and old was easier and more fluid than what she had experienced so far in her life here. By being honored for who she was, she developed a greater confidence in herself and learned exactly what she wanted and deserved in her relationships. 

Her host family consisted of two working parents and their three children. They are a busy family, and yet there always seemed to be enough time to support and guide the children in their schoolwork and other interests. The children learn self-sufficiency at an early age, but as a means of empowerment, not as a necessity or from neglect by their parents. 

Her host father also happened to be her teacher at school. Because of the dual role he had in her life, she was able to connect with him on a daily basis for a good amount of time. 

Over the course of the next two and a half months, my daughter developed a relationship with her host father that nourished her soul in a way it had not been nourished in a long time. I had forgotten how important a relationship between fathers and daughters is in the development of a girl. Watching my boys find their way without the affirmation of a father on a daily basis, I had lost touch with the feminine side of me that needed my father’s love and attention when I was growing up.

There seems to be so much attention put upon mothers in our society today when it comes to parenting issues. And yet, in my experience, there is no substitute for the presence of a father in our children’s lives. A mother cannot duplicate that role no matter how hard she tries.


The way a father shows up for his daughter(s) shows her what to demand of a man in a relationship. If her father treats her with disdain, disinterest, or abuse, that is what she will come to see as normal and accept into her life as she grows older. BUT, if he treats her with honor and respect, she will instead come to expect that from her future relationships.

My daughter came home from Israel with a sense of self and worthiness that I had not seen in her since she was in early elementary school. The self-esteem she exuded was palpable long before she got home. Her host father gave her the attention, honor, and respect from a father-figure that she had been so sorely missing for many years. She now has a clearer example in her head of who she is and not just what she will accept, but what she should expect in relationship.

As Father’s Day approaches this weekend in the United States, I cannot say thank you enough to our new Israeli family, but most especially to her host father, Avi, for the love and tenderness he showed towards Megan. I believe it does take a village to raise a child. Ours just happens to be a global one now!



Namaste.

A Leap of Faith and Counting Stars (Part One)

It was barely a year ago when my (then) tenth grade daughter expressed her deep and sincere interest to do an exchange program with a student from another country. She had talked about this desire before, but as a single mom in a relatively new area of the country, I didn’t feel remotely prepared for having a fourth child to be responsible for in our home. But last summer, when it came up again, without so much as a second thought, I said “Yeah, okay. Let’s figure it out.”

And thus began a journey of meeting new "family" members that has changed our lives.

My daughter’s school does exchange programs on a regular basis, so it was relatively easy to find an exchange student. Spain, Argentina, and Israel were the immediate choices as participating countries in the program. As Israel quickly became the most viable option, friends and family would ask me how I could consider letting my daughter go there and was I aware of how much violence there was in “that part of the world.” I don’t know how I knew everything would be fine, but I did. From the beginning, this felt like the right place for her to go and I had absolutely no worries about it. Not one. Ever.

My new “son”, Gilad, came to us first, less than two months later to stay for three and a half months. I still remember meeting this tired, unshaven, guitar toting young man at the airport. Just like a mother instantly knows her baby when it is born, we knew immediately that he was “ours” as he walked through security.

His presence brought so many wonderful things to our family. My boys, a ninth and third grader respectively, loved him. A common connection among boys is sports, and soccer, basketball, and swimming became the language for instant friendship between the three of them. My youngest son joined a basketball team this year, and I am sure it was due solely to the personal coaching and encouragement he got from his new "brother".

All of my kids were amazed by how easily new skills came to Gilad. While he was here, he decided to learn how to do a back flip and within 30 minutes had taught himself how do to it on our front yard. When my older son asked him how he did that, he replied “I don’t know. I just believe that I can do it, and I can.”

Out of the mouths of babes . . .

One day, a new Jewish friend taught me the word, “bracha”, which means blessing in Hebrew. I was excited to tell Gilad I had learned some Hebrew. He said, “Oh, yes, that is a good word. I do this every morning.” I was curious so I asked for more information from him. He told me every morning before he gets out of bed, he gives blessings for what he has been given. He blesses the air he breathes, the ground beneath his feet, the clothes on his back. He blesses life itself and is so grateful to choose to live it each day. His list goes on.  The stunning thing for me to see as he told me this about his practice was that this 15 year old boy was deeply connected to this ritual, and truly felt a deep appreciation for the things he shared with me. Living in a culture of “whoever has the most toys wins”, I was in awe of his sincerity and belief.

He loved music and one thing I miss is the sound of his guitar strumming in the evenings. He taught himself to play the OneRepublic song, “Counting Stars” while he was here. He used the internet to learn the chords and practiced over and over until he got it right. In learning this song, just like learning to back flip, he taught us that if we put our minds to it, we can do anything.

I wondered for most of his time here what he was receiving from living with us. It was soccer season here, and between school, practices, and games for the three different teams the kids all played on, there wasn’t much time to explore California. School was very different here than it was back home and that was very frustrating to him. I knew he missed home terribly and in fact, there were times when I thought he might leave early.

He did stay until the end as planned. I wondered what he brought home with him from his experience. His father tells me that he sees a new, more mature and accepting young man. He is more content with his life and has a new sense of calmness about him. He tells his father how grateful he was to have been able to live in California. And I imagine there is some sense of gratitude for having his father in his life, as he lived here in a household without one for the first time in his life.

 

It’s amazing to me to think about our new ties to Israel. It is a country 8,000 miles from us, and misunderstood by many in the world. Despite the warnings of those around us, the bonds forged between our two families were deep and immediate. Gilad’s father and I agree that our children have chosen us, and we are both profoundly grateful for their choosing. Our children, whether by blood or spirit, born or unborn, have so much to share with us when we relax and open our hearts.

In next week’s post, I will share how my daughter’s experience living in Israel gave her soul the nourishment she so deeply needed.

Namaste.

 

In the Blink of an Eye

Seventeen years ago, I held my three week old baby daughter in my arms, totally and completely in love with her. Born at the end of January, I was still deep in the honeymoon phase through the month of February. I could never have imagined anyone so tiny could take my breath away the way this seven and a half pound little girl did. With her silky smooth head, sparkling blue eyes and loving spirit, I was forever smitten. 

Today, February 18, 2014, those seventeen years feel like they’ve passed in the blink of an eye as I kiss her good-bye at the airport. That beautiful head lying on my shoulder this morning as we drove to catch her flight is no longer baby soft and balding, but is now thick and full of dark shoulder length wavy hair. Her once blue eyes turned a deep brown shortly after her first birthday and now water gently with my own as we embrace at the security gate. Her loving spirit, now stronger and more confident with the passage of time, continues to captivate me. 

She is off on her first big adventure today, traveling overseas to live and go to school on a kibbutz in Israel for two and a half months. Her Israeli “brother”, Gilad, is well-known to her, having lived with us for three months this past fall. Her Israeli mom and dad feel almost familiar to us after our regular Skyping sessions these past six months.

When her host family and I spoke shortly after their son arrived to stay with us last fall, they told me they believed Gilad’s soul chose our family, in the same way an unborn soul chooses their birth parents and siblings. And as his soul chose us, we acknowledged my daughter’s soul also chose them. It was an affirming thought for me, and as I sent my own daughter off to their open arms now, I imagine it was a comforting thought for them as well. 

I am learning that the village helping me raise my children is not just a local, but a global and spiritual one as well. I sent her host family a brief text message this morning to let them know she was on board her plane. Immediately her host mom called me, asking me how we both were, knowing firsthand both the excitement and sadness I was feeling having stood in my shoes only six months earlier as she said goodbye to her son. What a relief it was to talk to her, my daughter’s other mother, halfway across the world, and know how they were eagerly waiting for her arrival – all of her, body and soul! 

As she boarded her plane and I sat outside of security waiting until she was safely in the air, it occurred to me how there is so much more going on between us than we could ever imagine. I thought about my first pregnancy and my first daughter, Mary, as I left the airport. I thought about how Mary released me, her soul allowing mine to choose what was best for me, knowing that in the end, things would all work out. I imagine she knew that I needed more time to be ready to have a child. And I imagine she knew that this day would someday arrive, this moment where I now release my first born daughter into the world and in some strange way, it would all make sense.

In the ebb and flow of the circle of life and the bitter sweetness that comes with change, everything feels exactly as it should be. My life – abortion, miscarriage, divorce – it all makes sense to me in this one moment. Everything before has brought me here, to this place of feeling one with the Universe. Right now, in this space, with a tearful good-bye to a confident young woman still ringing in my ears, it all remains quiet and perfect within my soul. 

Namaste.