My family was recently blessed with a visit from a young lady from Munich, Germany who, for the 2007-08 school year, called McComb home.
Patty arrived at the Artigues household that year a (seemingly) shy teenager who had hopes of improving her English skills and experiencing a bit of American culture. She — and our family — got much more.
We had hosted our first exchange student two years earlier. Igor, a handsome, fun-loving young man from Brazil, was an immediate success in our home, our church, his school and our community in general. No one who met Igor — especially if they took the time to get to know him — could say anything but good things about him.
I remember the day Tina Brumfield approached me at a hospital function out at Fernwood shortly after Hurricane Katrina hit. “Y’all NEED another boy?” she said, knowing full well just a year earlier we had welcomed our sixth (biological) child — and fifth male, in fact — into our family.
Truth be known, however, Trish and I had discussed the possibility of hosting a student at SOME point in the future. It just never seemed to be the right time. It never is.
Being the saleswoman that she is, Tina went on to describe this sweet South American boy who was basically living life in seclusion without benefit of other children in the home or friends nearby. Living with an elderly host that did not drive, he was unable to get to weekly Mass, after-school functions or other activities that teens in our area enjoy.
He was homesick and in danger of leaving Pike County without experiencing the hospitality we are so well known for. And he would never have spoken up about his disappointment; it just wasn’t his style.
So we introduced Igor to our family by taking him to church with us one Sunday night. Coming from a family of three children — he being the youngest and the only boy — we wondered if this situation might be a bit more than he bargained for: instantly becoming — at least for the next 8 months or so — the “big brother” to six children (our oldest child, Kenny, was a freshman at McComb High School at the time). He didn’t hesitate.
And what a year it was.
Igor got a full dose of “American teenager” while he was here. He was an all-division soccer player for McComb, received the sacrament of Confirmation at St. Alphonsus that spring and even attended retreats with my boys (including a trip to a theme park in Virginia).
In those pre-Skype days, he tried to make a point of calling his parents now and then (like a typical boy, I’m sure his mother was underwhelmed with the level of communication). You never got the impression he was homesick, however, even if he did enjoy telling stories about the natural beauty of his Brazilian home town.
He was magnanimous, affable and a great big brother to his “siblings” in our household. Tears were shed when he left with his family that summer.
Fast forward two years. We were ready to take the plunge again — this time welcoming a “sister” for our only daughter, Annie (herself a freshman at McComb by this time). Once again we were blessed with someone who managed to take the chaos in our home in stride and who, like Igor before her, completely immersed herself into the community.
Patty eventually didn’t know a stranger either. No sooner had she unpacked her bags the summer of her arrival but our family was off to Arkansas, where she got a full dose at the Hamilton Family Reunion — staying in a two bedroom cabin with 30 or so members of her new extended “kinfolk.”
By the time she left some 10 months later, she had experienced it all: from the high of performing a beautiful duet with our own daughter in the youth choir at church while her parents were in attendance to the low of experiencing tears of sorrow as we learned that April of the tragic death of our former exchange student, Igor, in an auto accident back in his native country. Her departure that summer was yet another occasion for tears.
Now our German daughter is six years older. Four years ago she made a point of returning for a visit and just this month we were again blessed to host — if only for a week — our one-time exchange student who had become a true member of our family.
As is often the case, we benefited more from these opportunities of outreach than did either of the students. You never know, however, just what seeds might be planted when you welcome someone into your home and your lives.
On a drive to Jackson last week to pay a visit to both sets of her “adopted” grandparents, Patty and I discussed many things, including her future plans. She said that her older brother was the “driven” child in her family; ambitious and business-minded. He was more likely to put his career before starting a family and she wasn’t even sure if he would ever be able to “settle down.”
At one point in her life, she thought that would be her, too. But shortly after leaving McComb, she decided to change academic tracts from business to education. She thought she would enjoy teaching but that, more importantly, her experience in our home had given her a new appreciation for the importance of family, and a career in elementary or secondary school education would give her the opportunity to raise a family of her own.
What she really looks forward to now is being a wife and mother. In an era where women (and men) are being told that their true worth to society is measured by stock value, upward mobility and corporate profits, her words are a real breath of fresh air.
I’ve written in previous blogs about the importance of motherhood to society and how underappreciated good parenting has become in our world. Our first responsibility as parents is to pass this value on to our own children and the people we come into contact with in our day to day lives.
Patty’s words give me hope and serve as affirmation that we must be doing SOMETHING right in our home. It’s enough to bring tears to my eyes ... but this time, of joy.
Michael Artigues, a McComb pediatrician, writes regularly on family and social issues, or whatever strikes his fancy. “meus axilla” is Latin for “my armpit,” which he chose as the title of his blog in honor of his dad, who says that opinions are like armpits: everybody has them and everybody else’s stinks.
