Every now and then we hear someone repeat the phrase, “It takes a village to raise a child.”

Although it became a popular saying here in the ’90s, it is believed it originated long before that as an African or Native American proverb.

While we may not know the exact origin as of the phrase, we do know it lasted so long and is repeated so often because it’s a truism.

It does take a village to raise a child.

When you think about it, all of us were shaped by what we can collectively call “a village.” A big village.

Throughout life we were all shaped over the years into who we are and what we are by a legion of people who influenced us.

I spent time this week thinking about the village that raised me.

I called that village “family.”

There is no doubt in my mind that so much of my happiness as well as the person I became was due to my extraordinarily close Italian family.

They were definitely my village.

I didn’t have the typical mother-father and kids family.

When I was 10, it came as a bolt out of the blue when my mother told me on Christmas Day she and my father were getting a divorce. My father was moving far away and for reasons I never understood, we were suddenly homeless.

We had no home, no car and no money.

My mother took me and my 3-year old brother by the hand and we walked what felt like miles to my aunt’s house.

Aunt Rose had a full house of her own yet she opened her home and her heart, turning her attic into a big bedroom for us. She solved our money problem by hiring my mother to work in her factory.

Aunt Rose had a “we-can-do-this attitude” that washed away some of my fright.

From that day on, my four aunts and 11 older cousins became my village.

Aside from the fact that I missed my dad, there was nothing deprived about my childhood. I was wrapped in love and in the laughter of a close happy family.

I didn’t have one mother. I had four - four strong, capable women who listened to my stories, encouraged me, and made me believe I could do anything and become anything I wanted.

My cousins were just as incredible and were always there for me. Whether it was making me lunch, giving me advice or lending me their clothes they were my strong support team.

I am blessed to have been helped and shaped by my incredible family.

It does take a village and my so-called village had other adults who taught me how to look after others. I learned that from seeing the nice things they did for others.

I couldn’t have a dog of my own so one woman shared her dog, letting me play with the dog whenever I wanted. She let me enter Missy, her German Schnauzer, in the town’s dog contest. I was a happy little kid when Missy won the medal for friendliest dog.

Not all neighbors were wonderful, of course.

One neighbor screamed curse words and threatened to throw a bucket of water on me if I roller-skated on her payment.

Another woman yelled if I walked on her grass, even though I often walked to the store for her.

Everything in life is a learning experience. Both good and bad experiences can shape our attitudes and actions.

In my sophomore year of high school it was English teacher Mildred Byerly who praised my writing and encouraged me to consider a journalism career. I would never have thought of that if she didn’t plant the idea.

I can’t say I’ve ever “worked” in journalism because nothing in my newspaper career has been work. It’s been sheer joy and immensely rewarding.

After I got my first newspaper job I sent Miss Byerly flowers every year on her birthday to thank her for mentoring me.

She definitely is someone who has helped to shape me.

When I think about those who have helped me become the person I am today, it’s a long list.

No man is an island. We need to rely on a community of others. Some may call that community their village.

Not everyone believes that others helped them along the road of life.

I interviewed one particular guy who bristled when I asked who helped him become a success.

His answer: No one.

“I’m a self-made man,” he said. No one helped him. No one was there to shape him in any way, he insisted.

From what he said, I gather that his home life left a lot to be desired. He had to make his own way in life, he said.

I believe negative experiences also can help shape us. If we don’t want to be like our parents or family members that alone can shape our behavior as we try hard to go in a different direction.

One highly successful man who did exactly that said he credited his parents with giving him his intense drive to lead a different life.

It’s fun to sit back and think about how we got to be like we are.

It might even be a lesson in gratitude

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net