The Children’s Village is a bit of a nonconformist among group homes. We are big believers in lots of hugs, bedtime stories, and teddy bears. You see, the children referred to our town never got to experience the warm drunks that many of us had growing up. They have a lot to catch up on and part of our job is to fill those gaps in their childhood. That is part of the reason why we grandparents live in the village, but much of the personal and intimate interaction comes from our parents. After all, they have to deal with the mundane details of living with children. Some of these are boring (getting them up for school in the morning, making sure they brush their teeth, reminding them to change their socks and underwear, etc.) but there are also pleasant moments. Among them, most parents mention that they tuck their children up at night.

House parents in each house have their own bedtime rituals for children, but almost all include a bedtime story. I was surprised to find that 11-year-old Francesca, who is quite capable of even reading adult novels, insists that one of the house parents read to her. Even more remarkable, this rather sophisticated preteen chooses books intended for much younger children. Pooh Bear and Little Red Riding Hood will be fine, thank you.

This child doesn’t need help reading, but she does need to experience the comfort and convenience of having a loving adult sitting next to her in her bed at night. Reading skills you can acquire in school, but there is no substitute for this special nightly ritual. For whatever reason, Francesca never knew the comfort of these special moments with her parents. Heartwarming, he’s doing everything he can to make up for lost time.

Eight-year-old Nate wants to have his stuffed horse close to him at bedtime. He also insists that the father of his house wrap him well, “like a burrito”, as he describes it. His brother Bobby wants to be tucked up “like a mummy.” Bobby wants a goodnight kiss, but Nate is fine with a hug.

Nick wants to give and receive the bedtime ritual. He comes to my apartment shortly before nine to give my old basset hound, Penny, a hug and a kiss. Goodnight. Hell, old puppies need affection too. Nick’s little brother is equally caring about Grandpa’s Hanks stuffed animal collection. One day he came over and asked if he could take one of my stuffed otters home for the night. I said, “Okay, but take good care of it.” The next morning he brought it to me after assuring me that “he had hugged and kissed him a lot.” Nick will be a good dad one day.

The Children’s Village tries very hard to be a warm and welcoming place for our children. Other group homes, aware of the litigious nature of our society, tend to be very cautious when it comes to touching children. They are concerned that hugging and touching children is considered “inappropriate.” I do not dismiss your concerns. Children who come to us, unfortunately, are no strangers to “inappropriate” touching, whether the contact is sexual in nature or from a physical spanking.

So we are very careful in the way we interact with our children. Some children do not want to be hugged or even touched. We respect that. Other children, due to past abuse, seem unable to set limits for themselves. One of our girls, who had been raped at a very young age, practically threw herself on the house parents and grandparents alike. That was the only way he knew of receiving affection. So when I say that we are a people who firmly believe in the therapeutic value of touch, it does not mean that anything goes. Children need to learn from us how to respect their own bodies and know how to set limits for themselves.

Yet all too often in our society we allow our fear of lawsuits to override our common sense. We automatically put the adjective “inappropriate” in front of “touch”, as if the two were inextricably linked. Well, they are not. Quite the opposite. At Children’s Village, we like to think that hugging and being hugged, in the context of healthy relationships, is not only appropriate but essential for growth.