I'll be home for Christmas
It's the first time I really thought about that word: home. How interesting that you never really give it much attention when you are there, when you are home. But once you leave it, all of a sudden a part of you is yanked out leaving it a gap, a hole, an emptiness nothing else can fill.
For the first time I experienced what home-sickness really felt like. In a world where there is no Internet, no social media, no e-mail and not even the option of calling home. The only way to connect with family, available to me, back then, was by writing letters.
And the hope of going home is not there - I don't know when I will be back. I didn't buy a return ticket. I don't have any date I can mark in my calendar to check when I'll see my family again.
I remember my first Thanksgiving. I remember how odd the same hallways and room felt after everyone had left. All I could think of was that I had no one to come pick me up. I had no home to go to, not here, at least. I had no money to call home, so I wrote. And I wrote a lot.
No one is coming to pick me up.
I have nowhere to go to.
As it turned out, people invited me over to their places, but I would still stay in the dormitories for most of the time.
They invited me, but ...
No one comes to pick me up.
I dreamt of mom and dad driving into the gravel parking lot. I dreamt of hearing their cars and their voices calling out for me to open the main doors of the building. I dreamt of me looking out the windows and screaming out of joy.
I dreamt a lot.
And I was homesick a lot. Loneliness. Feeling alone.
I even once had a dream that I would forget their voices. Another time that even if they had an accident and they passed, I would be left alone.
Yes, I thought a lot. I was a homesick teenager who was trying to figure out who I was in this world.
I was glad when everyone came back from the long weekend. My roommate came back with homemade food and goodies and clean and new clothes and lots of stories about what she did. I had my stories too, but I didn't think they were cool or worth noting.
I eventually adapted, but for a 16 year old teenager, the days were not easy. English was not my first language. Everything was new, but life continued and it would not wait. I still have to learn and study. I had to find friends. And I yearned so much to just fit in. To blend in.
To be 'normal'. To just blend in.
I didn't want to be special. I didn't want to be the "Spanish speaking girl". I didn't want to be the girl that had come from a different culture.
I just wanted to blend in.
A year after, my brother Andy would join me and now not only did I have to deal with my homesickness, I had a younger brother to take care of and protect.
I wanted to stay strong in front of him, but inside me the loneliness and homesickness doubled, enough for the two of us.
I hated the thought of planning for Christmas because I had to find a place that would want us. Someone who would let us stay with them.
I don't remember all the details of how this came about but one of the dorm parents in the male dorm, Will, and his wife, Fern, whom I am blessed to still be in contact with even today, extended to Andy and I an invitation: Stay with us, they told us.
Someone wanted to pick us up for Christmas
Someone was inviting us home for Christmas
And so we stayed with them over the holidays.
Looking back, I was so young; I had just turned 17 the month before. But at that tender age my parents had already done a great job - I had been raised Chinese, so I went into Will and Fern's home with one mission in mind: do not shame the family by your behaviour. Be a gracious guest - and a polite one. I didn't want to offend our hosts and remembered telling Andy to be polite and be thankful.
But in the course of the next few days I witnessed what being Jesus' hands and feet really felt like. I saw it. I experienced it. And I felt it.
God loved me through this family.
I saw Jesus through them.
How?
I had a room and bed and sheets to sleep in. It was not a fancy big house by any standard.
But to me, It was not a dorm room. It was home
The house smelled delicious as my hostess started baking. To this day I think part of my skills in baking comes from being so inspired by her. It smelled like home
My hostess was extremely overdue with her first baby, and I remember seeing how stressed they were. Now that I've been pregnant myself I respect and admire them even more - inviting us over during this precious time in their lives. I even remember hearing conversations they had (stressful ones sometimes) - I think Will was trying to keep Fern calm, and Fern was just so overdue. But to me, even that, It felt like home.
I remember Christmas day, and how they got us together and the four of us sat around the tree and my hostess read a book with the Christmas Story. And then it was time to open the gifts.
I didn't expect to get anything - or maybe just a gift. But we had many gifts...small things but I remember them still. A pack of envelopes. Socks, and then the big gift.
A gift certificate to call home.
We would call home on Christmas
I had not heard mom and dad's voice in months.
I would be home for Christmas for 15 minutes.
Then they invited us to go along with them to visit Fern' parents who were in another city. I remember going into the home and smelling all the amazing smells a traditional family in North America would have over the holidays: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweets, cranberry sauce and more! The family was there and it was very festive.
It sounded like home
Thank you Will and Fern. Thank you for picking my brother and I up that Christmas. Thank you for noticing us. Thank you for your obedient heart to be Jesus' hands and feet. God was using you to show these two teenagers that He was caring for us right there. We met Jesus in your house even before we realized it.
That Christmas I was home. My home away from home.
And in the years following I would experience more homes away from home. People who noticed us, picked us up, invited us, and welcomed us.
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| Val (left) my dorm parent for 3 years, and Will, my husband's dorm parent for 2 here with Fern (right). They continue to be in touch with us after all these years. |
This year, as my husband and I prepare for Christmas, God is taking us back to those roots.
We were poor International students in a foreign place; with no family, no roots, no home.
And no one to pick us up.
I was thinking....every year during Christmas time everyone seems to have plans. It is always so hard to 'find time' to get together because everyone has somewhere to go. Gatherings become almost forced. "Let me see if I can squeeze you in" is in everyone's thoughts.
But not everyone has a place to go.
Not everyone looks forward to holidays.
I dreaded holidays back in the days. I'd rather have routine school days back then.
No time to let the heart feel lonely. No opportunity for it to feel the void.
And so this year, we will invite people who don't have anywhere to go to.
There is always enough food for one (or 10) more.
To this day, when I think of Christmas, I think of that Christmas.
When I think of hospitality, I think of people like Will and Fern. But there are many others. Mr and Mrs Head, Mrs Westergard, Lorraine, Helen and Joseph, Nelly and Wes, Val, and so many more.
Because of these people I learned that faith without action is dead.
These people were not rich in the worldly sense. None of them had fancy homes...in fact many of them didn't even OWN a house.
But they showed me Treasures in Heaven. They didn't share their extras'. What they had, they willingly shared because they knew the ONE who gave us all.
They taught me what Christmas, and what Christ is all about.
It is my job to continue this legacy. It is my call to pass this to my children. It is my obligation to be obedient to the Father. And it is my pleasure to do so.
I asked Will and Fern to share their side of the story, here are some excerpts of what they shared, from their perspective:
Will:
"Growing up ... Mom would say that There is always leftovers so a couple more won't hurt. I can remember a time where we took in a whole family not over the holidays but over the summer. This family of 6 was transitioning into the community and were all staying in a small hotel room. My parents had plenty of room so they invited them to stay during their transition to a house. They did not know this family they heard about their needs at a Sunday Night Prayer Meeting at Church. God spoke to their heart and that is when they invited them home to our house. This is one account of many that I remember as a kid that shaped my view of hospitality and meeting the needs of others. "
"Thinking back to you and Andy I remember hearing that you were not going home to Peru for Christmas. ...Fern and I felt it our responsibility to help you both over the Christmas Holidays. What a blessing it was to have you with us. It helped to shape what I believed about Ministry in the Dorm....We knew that you were home sick I think we made sure that you got to talk to your folks during that time. "
"I remember having the opportunity to give you guys gifts, just simple things to let you know we cared for you. I remember we had a night of Chinese Food one night. I loved having you in our home. "
Fern: "From my perspective - you both seemed really shy and quiet. Friendly, but I sensed a sadness in your hearts. We were wanting to make sure that you both had a great Christmas and wanted to do what we could to ease your missing your family.
And in a lot of ways I was unsure how to do that. There is a term "refrigerator friends -- those people who you invite into your home who make themselves at home -- going into the fridge even if it's not been cleaned, help themselves to food, making themselves at home. I was unsure how to communicate that to you. "
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