The sun shone bright and warm though it was only February. We took a seat at an outdoor table on the third floor of our favourite restaurant. Our kids have taken to calling it “The Rat Restaurant” due to the rodents that run freely under the outdoor tables. It was the day before our departure for Canada and after packing and preparing for our house-sitter, we escaped for lunch and a chance to mentally prepare for the trip that lie ahead.

We asked our kids if they had any questions about Canada; they said it was only a distant memory. Canada, my reference point for everything (Butter is so much cheaper in Canada. Electric scooters would never be allowed on the sidewalk in Canada…) is barely a reality to my kids. How do I process that? I love that my kids are developing a global perspective, but as a parent I want to pass down the joys of my childhood; jumping in the leaves, making snowmen, going for a walk in near a deserted woods; to connect over shared experiences. Isn’t that a key part of parenthood?

But they hear these stories like I heard tales of Sultans in the Middle East or marsupials in the Australian Outback. They can’t relate.

I thought they would be full of questions about exciting activities we could do, the things that I felt they were missing out on. Or maybe they would ask about family members they hadn’t seen for years. I was shocked by their question.

One of them voiced in first.

“What do we do if we see a bear?”

I laughed. Then the other two joined in, asking in ernest. They weren’t joking, they sincerely wanted to know how to protect themselves in this situation. I pondered. Maybe they were excited to see something strong and free and wild, a symbol of Canada, or maybe they were thinking they didn’t know how to take care of their most basic need in this new place: survival. After all, their life is China.

Their question reminded me how little they understood of Canada. “You’re not going to just stumble across a bear,” I told them. “I spent most of my life in Canada and only once saw a bear in the wild.”

They were unconvinced. My kids have pieced together their picture of Canada based on stories they have heard and a handful of memories. Bears, apparently, are part of their understanding.

I insisted it was a non-issue but instead of me being proved right, this time it was the kids.

We stayed in a peaceful cottage outside of Mission, where I fell in love with British Columbia all over again. It was so calming to go from voices of the masses barging through our fifteenth floor apartment in China to being tucked away under the shadow of the mountain. I savoured every moment of it.

One of our last mornings at the cottage I looked out the window and right there, walking through the yard, was a bear. I was shocked but my kids weren’t surprised at all, only excited.

Weeks have passed since we watched out the window in amazement as this bear cub explored the very yard my kids had been playing in but they haven’t forgotten. Whenever I ask them their highlight of the trip, they respond in unison, “Seeing the bear!”