For My Boys:
We say hello as strangers;
we say goodbye as friends.
What's established in between -
it never really ends.
I know I'm not your parent
and that you'll have to leave,
but to me you're important
and when you go I'll grieve.
My house feels far too empty -
I miss your presence here;
and though goodbyes are painful,
I hope that this is clear:
I'm glad I got to know you
and though you've gone away,
I hope to reassure you
that in my heart you'll stay.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, July 7, 2019
Almost two years ago my husband and I embarked on a new adventure when we agreed to become host parents to international students attending the local high school.
My husband had heard a presentation given by the local exchange program coordinator, and one of her then-current students, and was quite enthusiastic about the two of us hosting students. I, on the other hand, required some convincing. I was worried about privacy concerns, and a bit daunted by the idea of opening my home to strangers. I'm also not much of a cook, and I worried about keeping teenagers decently fed.
I'm glad that I was able to move past my concerns and agreed to become a host parent, because the experience has enriched my life immensely.
The first student we had came to us mid-semester. He wasn't a good fit with his first host family, and when he came to our home it was clear to me that he was lonely. He really wanted some time and attention from us so that he could improve his English skills before he returned to Brazil. He was sweet and smart, and grateful for everything we could do for him and everything we gave him. He kept me company when my husband as busy, and became adept at playing my favourite games. I soon I realized that I really liked having this boy around - I enjoyed his laughter and his thirst for knowledge. He complimented my iffy cooking skills and made me feel useful. I never imagined the wave of grief I'd feel when he left...
Our second student wasn't a good fit with our family's culture. She went on to another home after six weeks, leaving me feeling that I had completely failed as a host mother. It took a while for me to be able to assess the situation with clarity, and accept that we simply wouldn't hit it off with every student. That situation also helped us set some parameters as host parents. Since I spend more time with the students than my husband does, and because I have two sons of my own, and no daughters, I decided I was more comfortable hosting boys.
I'm not going to tell you that I got over that second experience quickly, but I'm convinced that having her go elsewhere was the best decision for all concerned. Four months after she left our home, we were offered the opportunity to host a boy from Italy for ten months. Because I felt I had "failed" with my last student I took some convincing, but decided to try it again - and I'm so glad I did! Our Italian son was a joy from the moment he arrived with his ready smile, cheerful disposition and generous nature. After he'd lived with us for about a week, I was already so heartened by the experience that when asked if we'd be willing to host another student from Brazil, I said yes without hesitation.
I hoped that my two students would become friends, and they surpassed my expectations in that way, and a whole lot of other ways too. At a time in my life when I was feeling a bit blue and a more than bit aimless, they cheered me up and gave me purpose. They ate my mediocre meals without complaining, and let me know that they loved my desserts. We had long conversations and laughed together like lunatics. They took my unsolicited advice stoically, and even offered a bit of their own on occasion. They taught me that friendships can cross generations - and I've since learned that they can cross continents too.
At the end of the first semester, our Brazilian student went home. I cried for days. He and I had become great friends, in part because his English skills were already so good when he arrived that there were no linguistic barriers to overcome. I pulled myself together and welcomed another Brazilian student into our home eight days after his departure.
Our third Brazilian student was harder for me to get to know, but he came to me for help with his English, and it was very gratifying to see how quickly he began to master the language. He proved to be smart, determined, and helpful. When I went to visit my son for a week, both boys assisted my husband with meals and housework, and when I came home they let me know they had missed me.
Our students become family to us; they share our meals and are part of our holiday and family celebrations. We don't just house them and feed them - we enjoy them. We listen to them and try to build their self esteem. When our second Brazilian student arrived, I explained to him and his Italian "brother" that I admired their courage - I knew it had to be hard for them to come to Canada from so far away - to immerse themselves in a foreign language and culture, and to live with strangers.
"But - " I added, "it's hard for us too. We invite you to live with us without knowing who you are or whether we'll all get along. We just hope it all works out."
For our family, hosting has worked out wonderfully. Our older son lives with us, and though he is more than a decade older than our students, he becomes friends with them, and misses them when they leave. My younger son, married and living far away, always asks how things are going with our students. My mother buys them Christmas presents, and hugs them when she has her last visit with them before they leave.
Let me tell you - those departures are hard! We said goodbye to our third Brazilian eleven days ago, and to our Italian student eight days ago. I'd be lying if I told you it wasn't a teary week. My mother asked me how I could keep hosting when it is so hard to watch them go. I told her that I couldn't consider not doing this again when I now have additional sons on two continents!
I hope we will be able to open our home to more boys in the autumn. Our lives are happier because of the friendships we have built - and I'd love to see this hosting tradition continue. Every message I get from "my boys" fills my heart with gratitude for the opportunity I had to be a their "mom" for a short period of time, and their friend for the rest of my days; every video chat reminds me that the goodbyes are never final.
We are all part of each others' lives now, no matter how far apart we are.
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