I enjoyed the Mother's Day celebration at Windward Mall, part of a series of events marking National Foster Care Month, a time for recruiting foster families. I'm a great advocate of foster parenting, having adopted seven children and played a role in raising many other children who passed through our home.

One of the guest speakers quoted the African proverb made famous by Hillary Clinton, "It takes a village to raise a child," pointing out that many people with various gifts and talents are needed to successfully raise a child. With our oldest adopted daughter Leimomilani preparing for senior prom, then graduation, I was surprised so many years had passed and wondered where the time had gone.

Lost in reverie, I realized that some of the greatest struggles involved keeping her on the right path and encouraging her to make wise decisions, which became more difficult when she became a teenager with raging hormones and frequent mood swings. Armed with the discovery she had the right to her own ideas, she began to fight for independence. Then the boyfriends appeared, and so did the new challenge of convincing her to maintain her standards. But there was joy as well, in friendship and in finding value in caring for others. And there was pride, too, as she remained undeterred from her goals throughout high school.

As I recalled the heartbreaking disagreements, the "You're not really my mother" looks and the times I heard, "I can hardly wait to be 18, and I'm out of here," I wondered how we had succeeded in helping her meet the requirements of graduation and reach young adulthood. Suddenly, I realized we haven't raised her on our own; we are part of the village that has shared in her upbringing.

Her teachers, from elementary to high school, showed her there was a whole world to discover. She helped with the cookie-bake fundraiser and attended the Friday-night movies at the school. In high school, she took part in after-school programs and special tutorials. With each activity, she found a village of mentors.

Our involvement in church made it natural for her to eventually join the youth ministry, along with the music ministry, where she learned to play the keyboard and the guitar. She attended special seminars and went to overnighters and Bible studies. She participated in their garage sales and helped clean and cook the Sunday church breakfast. All the while, the leaders of the village were in attendance.

I have nine siblings, so our 'ohana is large and readily available. We taught our daughter to "look for an open door" during trying times. If she felt she couldn't talk to us, we encouraged her to talk to another adult she trusted. A teacher, an aunt, an adult friend from church or the school counselor, a coach, all members of the village she needed.

This is a time when we have to be more conscious of our kids, who hold the vision and the decisions of our future. By protecting them, we protect our future. Give them the guidance, when given the opportunity, and our future will look brighter. Part of that means raising our children in our own villages.

It's important to know there are other villages, and some children are raised on the village of the streets, or in villages that include drugs, gangs or prison. The members of these villages will take the opportunities that we don't or that we miss.

We can choose to be involved with every child who comes across our path, and we need to realize that every kid out there is our responsibility in one way or another. Hawaiians accepted that responsibility as an unspoken tradition ... the reason why everybody is auntie or uncle. That is the meaning of Island 'ohana. If we care enough to make a difference in the lives of family members or strangers, we must choose to be a participant of our Island villages.

A. Lee Totten, mother of 11, has adopted seven foster children.