By Leela Marie Hidier
Even though today I live closer to London, Maine, I was born and raised in London, U.K. Growing up in this city bustling with people from every country in the world fascinated me. All of my cultures (Indian, French, U.S.) and so many more surrounded me. Corner shop shelves packed with papadums, Turkish delight, baklava, and Cadbury Flakes. Along Muswell Hill avenues and roads, through open windows, perfumes of cumin, coriander, and clove. Melodies of Mandarin. Harmonies of Hindi. In the months of October to November, from Halloween to Guy Fawkes Night to Diwali: the non-stop sizzle of fireworks echoed through our borough and the whole city. Always something to celebrate.


But still, my favorite time of year was summer. This was when we’d fly to the United States to visit my grandparents for one to two months. Arriving at Boston Logan Airport, racing into Dada’s and Ma’s arms and that warmth only found in grandparents’ hugs, always felt like coming home. Those summers were never-ending. Magical Massachusetts hours spent squealing through sprinklers and licking dripping Friendly’s black raspberry ice cream cones. And on warm Wilbraham nights, gazing up at the sky – so different from the one back in London.
In this sky, you could see stars.
But what made those summers most special was being with the family. Time-traveling through my grandparents’ stories – their journeys from Johannesburg, South Africa, where my grandfather was born, to Bombay, India, where my grandmother was born and the two of them met. And later, from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts and, decades after, right here to Maine.
Whenever August neared its end, my stomach was always in knots. As much as I loved London, flying back to the U.K., watching Boston’s bridges and buildings diminishing to impressionist points from the airplane window, felt like I was leaving behind a part of me.
And then, four years ago, my family and I moved to the United States to be closer to my maternal grandparents (sadly, my paternal French grandparents had passed away a few years before). Arriving in Boston that November (the 19th – my grandparents’ 56th wedding anniversary) was wonderfully different.
And from there, Maine felt like coming to Vacationland (one of our state’s nicknames). Splashing in Casco Bay waves, devouring gooey s’mores, collecting seashells and sea glass, spending hours in the great outdoors. The way life should be.
And March 28, 2020, the day my grandparents moved in with us, was the moment this place, this town, this state of Maine, truly became my home.
Since then, I’ve been living in a three-generational household. Our walls adorned with my Ma’s oil paintings and my Mamy’s needlepoints. The wooden hand-carved tables from India and the old polaroids from Vendée. My great-grandmother Lila’s dubas and chakri maker and my great grandmère Marie’s fisherman statue from Brittany.
It’s not just the objects that make this place home but the stories that go with them. So many of which my grandparents have shared at our kitchen table and living room sofa. As we sorted through slides and old photographs – memories.
Of the moment Dada and Ma arrived in this country. The first of their family to have an out-of-caste love marriage (instead of the traditional in-caste arranged one), migrate from India to the U.S., and start a life – make a home – here.
Home is not only a tangible object or place. It is the memories we collect.
The melodies, the scents, the sounds.
Lemongrass, ginger, fresh mint chai infusing the room.
Marigolds, that remind my grandparents of India, in bloom.
Sounds of the whistling, humming, of old videos from trips to India running.
My Ma’s soft – and strength-filled – voice inspiring and reassuring me. My Dada’s gentle fingers dancing on the old piano keys. Toor dahl, ratatouille, Gâteau Breton, kulfi – the spicy, salty, sweet.
Home is the people that mean so much to me.
The places I know so well, and even those I’ve never seen.
London, U.K. France – Vendée. Boston. Bombay.
A family tree. A beautiful tapestry of identity.
And now: here in Maine, all of this interweaves.
Leela Marie Hidier was born and raised in London, U.K., and now lives in a three-generational home in Maine. Her debut novel, Changes in the Weather, was written as a part of Tthe Telling Room’s Young Emerging Authors program.
Young Emerging Authors is a year-long, after school writing fellowship organized by The Telling Room, a Portland-based literary arts organization focused on educating young writers ages 6 to 18. Every fall, four Maine youth writers are selected to bring a book idea to life through the drafting, revising, and publishing process. Last year, Leela Marie Hidier was one of the writers, and her debut novel, Changes in the Weather, was published this past year.
For more information and to purchase Changes in the Weather, please visit www.thetellingroom.org
Changes in the Weather by Leela Marie Hidier
Four teenagers displaced by climate change.
WIND How will Isla fix her family in a world that’s blown apart?
EARTH Can a romance bloom for artist Ava, even in a land that’s parched?
WATER Will songwriter Xenia find the words to express her flooding heart?
FIRE How will Natasha put out the fire but still hold on to her spark?
For those coming of age in a time of uncertainty, it’s no longer a question of whether they will be impacted by climate change but when. In this ring of stories from debut author Leela Marie Hidier, four young people find sanctuary – and strength – in their families, friends, communities, and even strangers. Along the way, they learn to use their voices to create change and discover what home really means.
Young Emerging Authors is a year-long, after school writing fellowship organized by The Telling Room, a Portland-based literary arts organization focused on educating young writers ages 6 to 18. Every fall, four Maine youth writers are selected to bring a book idea to life through the drafting, revising, and publishing process. Last year, Leela Marie Hidier was one of the writers, and her debut novel, Changes in the Weather, was published this past year.
For more information and to purchase Changes in the Weather, please visit www.thetellingroom.org