With two months of our trip behind us it feels like we will soon be on the other side of the world, and Canada, the storehouse of my childhood memories, will once again be far away; nearly forgotten. One of the hardest things about living abroad is that I can’t naturally pass on my experiences to my children.

On this trip I made a point of carving out some time to do just that. As a child, I loved going to the zoo, experiencing the fascination of the animal world. We have been able to take our kids to several in Asia but none compared with the one I had visited as a child. I determined to book in a day at the Toronto zoo. This is something I had wanted to do for years but hadn’t managed to fit in during our whirlwind trips home.

“I hope they still have the footprints painted on the ground,” I told Brian the night before we were scheduled to go. Memories of the thrill of placing my own foot on the animal footprint path and following one after another, eyes peeled for a glimpse of the next animal, filled me.

We entered the gate and headed to the first trail. The footprints still marked the way and my son, Panda, led us through. As we followed him I felt deeply satisfied. There was something so close to the heart about sharing the joy I had experienced as a child with my own children, passing on the good in my life to them.

We wound our way along the path, taking in the wonder of the many species that make their home there, and I started to think, The polar bear exhibit is so spectacular, I’m surprised it is not right by the entrance, with a sign directing all to view it. No other zoo we’ve visited had polar bears and I was excited to show them to my kids. My memory of it outshone all that we were seeing.

We reached the underground tunnel and with my kids by my side we watched in amazement as the great predator of the Arctic pushed her massive body through the water with ease, her thick white fur floating around her.

As she swam away, I noticed how much smaller the viewing windows seemed, and even the tunnel. I had pictured it three or four times bigger, with multiple bears and capacity for dozens of spectators but as an adult I had to hunch over to see in.

Nevertheless, I led my family above ground and watched mama bear glide back and forth on the surface of the water with what looked like a smile playing across her furry face, seemingly enjoying her audience. When she dove down, I ran like a child in hopes of seeing her swim underwater again. The kids followed, perhaps more amused by me than the animal. It was such a pleasure to take them to a place that held a memory of wonder for me as a child.

I imagined myself coming to Toronto as a young girl growing up in a town of 7,500 people and how different my perspective was from my own children’s, who live in a city of 8 million and have already filled three passports. If you could have followed us through the zoo you would have heard them comparing the black bears to the sun bear we saw in Thailand, or the orangutan to the ones we played with in Indonesia, or when the crowds flocked to the panda bears and we said, “No, we’ve seen enough of those.” My children’s life experience stands at a strong contrast to mine. Yet for the variety of experiences they have had, I still long to share those that were significant to me.

They joined in with enthusiasm. They do love zoos. Their highlight came not when watching the mama polar bear swim but when we noticed that the baby had woken up and was playing. My daughter, Cherry Blossom, stood close to the window to take a picture. She caught his eye. This ball of snow-white fur stood on all fours, looking directly at her, and then bounded forward. I expected him to stop when he reached the glass but instead he lowered his head, and kept running, ready to head-butt my little girl. The crown of his head collided with the glass, square with my daughter, and he fell backward landing on his bottom, dizzied.

I marvelled at the adorable animal interacting with my girl, the boys laughed and Brian said he just watched in surprise, trusting the glass to hold out.

Cherry Blossom will not soon forget being approached by a polar bear. The spot that I stood as a young child has made a place in our family memories and with my world traveller kids.

It was fulfilling to have this experience as a family but it couldn’t just happen. It takes effort to share the things that are important to us, whether it is a special event, or something more foundational like modelling how we take care of our health or passing on our values.

My challenge in taking my kids to the zoo was distance but even if I lived closer there would be other demands competing for my attention. When we look back, as parents, we want to see that we have made time to pass on the good from our own experiences.

For me, it was taking my kids to watch the polar bears swim. How about for you? Is there something you have been wanting to do with your family and haven’t been able to find the time? I encourage you to do it. After seeing the smiles on my kids’ faces and feeling the satisfaction of sharing a favourite memory with them, I know it’s worth the extra effort.