The front doorbell rang. There they were. Just like that. Come for a Sunday afternoon visit. They brought gifts - lovely gifts - these friends from their Sunday School class. But the very best gift they brought was their time - the visit itself.
For two hours they sat, sharing stories and laughter. It was my Mom's idea of the perfect gift. A visit.
She has the gift of hospitality. Our home was the one where friends gathered, where missionaries occupied the guest bedroom whenever there was a need, where friends were entertained and meetings were held.
When we kids grew up and moved away, it was the place we returned - calling it "going home." Our children loved going to Grandma's house, and now their children find the same welcoming warmth. For it isn't about the house at all. That has changed over the years. It is her heart that draws us.
Ninety years of living have taken their toll. Hospitality comes with increasing difficulty, but it hasn't dimmed the joy she finds in a simple visit.
I go as often as I can. It is always a coming home. The welcoming smile; the open arms; the kiss on the cheek; the listening heart.
I'm linking up with the community that finds its way to Lisa Jo's welcoming place. Please join us.