From teen, to nanny, to stephanie

She is two years, beautiful blue eyes, contagious smile, curly blond hair. I know she is family and I am related to her, but the fact that we look so much alike is almost scary. We share the same great-grandparents, even though neither of us has an idea who they were.

I came here, a year ago, as an unexperienced girl, who wanted to run away from home. Afraid of commitment, never wanting to get attached to anything or anyone. I had left home with the intention of never going back there again. For me, there was no way of slowly letting go of the rope that held me and my parents together, it needed to be cut.

When we arrived here in Cambridge, Sammy couldn’t say much more than the standard ‘mama’ and ‘dada’. Her parents gave me the honour of raising this little baby to the talkative and cheery toddler she has grown up to be. We spent nearly every second of every day together. School hours and homework made place for a job that could fulfil all my creative intuition and caring heart. Up until that point, I had never loved anyone as much as I loved her. I just didn’t know it yet.

Challenge

I was starting the challenge of a life-time, not entirely sure how to take care of it. At home, we never learned how to cook, or wash, or take care. Whenever we tried, we would only hear what we did wrong and what had to be better. All was negative, all the time. There was no nurturing, there was no letting you do yourself, back-up help when needed, there was only; this is our wish, so this is your command. We were controlled and never got the chance to learn to take control over our own lives. Now, I was in control of an entire household.

As an auto-didact, the first few technical bumps were easy to overcome. I learned some recipes, read the manual of the washing machine and became best friends with the vacuum cleaner. Building tents and reading book weren’t a big deal either, but when it came to adapting, connecting and loving, I was at a loss. I couldn’t trust anyone and calling people friends, was my term for; “Yes, we hang out, but I could do better without them.”. I was always taught that it was socially not acceptable to not make any friends and I always did what was asked of me.

Shocked

One night, when my year abroad was almost over, I was putting Sammy to bed, way passed her bed time. For this reason, we argued over the fact that there was no time to read another bed-time story. It got to the point where I was a little pissed off by the waste of energy, standing by the light-switch, trying my best to sound calm: “Goodnight.”

“Night night, Tephie.” She answered.

At the moment I closed the door, I heared: “I wuv you.”

I was shocked, my heart was pounding. I had surely heard the words before in my life, but it never felt like anyone had meant it.

I walked back in, gave he a hug and a kiss and looked into her eyes. The words came straight from my heart: “I love you too, Sammy.”

I learned, well, she taught me, that loving someone and truly caring for someone has nothing to do with a handbook you can read, practice tests you can make or a silly contract that you sign that will tell you what to do, or how things will go. I simply spend time with Sammy, told her secrets I would never tell another two-year-old, let alone another grown-up. She started to trust me with her life and it made me realize I was crazy for not trusting her with mine. Our hearts opened while playing together, drawing together, or learning about nature together.

Remember

My years conclusion was that there are so many things you can learn out of a stupid book; or a lecture that lasts longer than an average train ride from Amsterdam to Paris, but the things you learn out of life, from connecting with other people, from making mistakes; those are the most valuable things you will ever learn. That is the knowledge you take with you to the grave. It is those things, people will remember you by. It is therefore, I will never, ever… forget about Sammy.

Love, Stephanie Garland