It’s rare for me to meet anyone outside of my immediate family where I share childhood memories or a historic connection.

Moving frequently means that these types of social connections vanish. Certainly, social media has altered the landscape and I now occasionally discover past acquaintances (or they locate me) through Instagram or Facebook. But I am never the person who goes to a local party where I unexpectedly meet someone who went to the same kindergarten or high school. And as an expat American living in regional Australia the chances of meeting someone with a historic connection becomes even more unlikely.

But never say never because recently we were introduced to a man who lived in our old Federation home with his family nearly twenty years ago. Through a mutual friend’s introduction, the previous owner visited us and brought photographs of the house from that period. With our limited information, we were very intrigued to meet with the man and learn more. (We believe the front part of building was constructed over one hundred years ago, and we do know that the home was moved from its original location by a team of bullocks to the present day position.)

First, we asked him about certain features in the interior of the house. Did he install the doors with the colorful stain glassed windows featuring Kookaburras in the kitchen? He said that it was one of their additions. Was the slate floor in the kitchen here when they moved in? He told us that it was already here. He asked us if the pipes still pinged when the taps were turned on in the kitchen? We laughed and replied, “Yes.” He described his hard work to uncover the high wooden ceilings in the kitchen and living room. We learned that he had refinished the wood floors in the living room and hallway.

Then we took him into the backyard where he immediately noticed the red bricks following the contours of a stone path. We told him that we had added this feature. We learned that he and his sons had built the garage that is now my furniture painting studio, and he was responsible for creating the round, red brick mandala underneath the Hills Hoist.

The most dramatic changes are in the front of the house. He and his wife created a detailed garden plan that included the planting of a small palm tree, which now stands majestically in the front garden as tall as the house. They planted the towering pencil pines that stand like giant exclamation points on each side of the front gate and at the property’s corners. With he and his wife’s efforts, the house now sits in a splendid garden that combines elements of the past with many new plantings from our time here.

Our meeting with the previous owner was a reunion of sorts—one we never would have expected. It felt like we were being introduced to a close relative that had been previously unknown. Our house was a mystery story and with the previous owner’s visit, we now had the clues to solve it.

This shared history, albeit with a stranger, was memorable. It gave me a sense of continuity and belonging that is rare for any perennial newcomer.