SALT LAKE CITY &8212; A childhood friend recently came to town to let the most important people in his life meet his girlfriend. He asked me to arrange a small party to show her off.

At first glance, the guest list might seem odd for a party honoring two twenty-somethings. The crowd consisted mostly of friends of our parents. However, I immediately recognized the guests as the surrogate parents that protected, mentored and loved both my friend and I as we grew up. These people populated the proverbial village that raised us.

As a kid, I could count on more than a dozen adults to have my back, regardless of their own child's involvement. It wasn't uncommon to spend as much time at a friend's house during the summer as my own. My parents knew that they could count on me being supervised and watched over (not to mention well-fed) at any of the households I frequented, largely because they were close friends with the parents. This was a completely reciprocal arrangement, and my parents provided plenty of meals, beds and advice to my friends.

Now that I am a mother, I am adamant about creating the same sense of community for my children. However, in our transitory society, it seems like forming a village to raise our kids in gets more difficult by the minute. The basis of my support system as a child was my parents' close-knit friendships. Without my parents' attention to relationships, I never would have met some of the most influential adults of my life.

I worry sometimes that I'm trading spontaneous visits for Facebook and chats in the park for text messages. My kids are so busy with classes and camps that they rarely get time to roam the neighborhood with friends. Even if they had the time, current culture has replaced free time with play dates, all scheduled weeks in advance. I wonder if our perfection-obsessed mommy culture is partly to blame. Would I really welcome a midmorning visit from a friend without the heads up to clean up?

In my quest to create a community for my children, I need to lighten up a little. My kids could forego a few classes a week for some one-on-one time with influential adults. Also, I know it wouldn't be the end of the world if someone saw my house in less than pristine condition. I'm even going to go out on a limb and guess that my kids would survive if I let them roam the neighborhood a little in the summer. It really is a safe neighborhood; I just need to surrender some control.

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After all, the entire concept of “it takes a village” hinges on the idea that parents don't have to be everything to their children. Unfortunately, as children age, they often supplant the advice of loving parents for the approval of their peers. I know that I am a better person because I was able to pull from the experiences of a variety of adults, even when I was unwilling to listen to my own parents. Those memories motivate me to surround my kids with people of substance. I know from experience that these relationships will continue to influence my children into adulthood, a truth that I was recently reminded of.

A few months back I gave a presentation to a large group, a task that terrified me. The night before my big speech, I ran into the father of a close childhood friend, and I found myself once again confiding in this wise, older gentleman. The next day, true to form, my friend's father sat in the back row during my presentation, slipping out once I had finished my part. Although he never said a word to me, I knew that he was there to support me in his own quiet way. The message was powerful: You have people. You have value. You are loved.

I imagine surrounding my children with an entire group of people who reaffirm that they, too, have people. My children need to know that they have value. Most importantly, they need to know that they are loved. It will be one of the greatest gifts I can give them.

So, if anyone feels like stopping by for a visit one of these mornings, you are more than welcome. Ignore the piles of laundry and dishes in the sink while we sit and chat for a while. Our kids can play. Over time, your kids will learn that they are always welcome in my home, and they can always count on me to look out for their best interests. I hope that you'll do the same for my kids. And one day, when the kids are all grown, I hope to see you when my son brings home his new girlfriend. I know that it will mean a lot to him that you are there.

Heather Hale is a fourth-generation Montanan, mom to two crazy boys and wife to one amazing husband. You can learn more about her eco-conscious lifestyle at moderatelycrunchy.blogspot.com.

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