Five-Star Hospitality

Recently, Ken and I went on a six-day trip. Our route took us to Lancaster Co. in Pennsylvania, down through Delaware and North Carolina, and far enough into South Carolina that we almost hit the Georgia border. We booked hotel rooms for our lodging part of the time, but for two of the nights we decided to notify friends that we required some “putting up”. It has been said that hospitality not only requires putting guests up, but also some putting up with guests, which our friends must have been okay to do, because they let us come.

The hosts in both places where we stayed showed us impressive hospitality. One of the couples had other guests staying in their spare bedrooms, so they offered us the use of their spacious Airbnb accommodations. The bedroom was called The Elijah Room, but I say it was an Elijah Room with Extras, what with all the cushion and charm added to the simple bed, table, stool, and candlestick of the biblical Elijah’s quarters.

In the South, my cousin and his family offered us warm fellowship right along with the warm SC weather. You know how you can just jump right into easy, homey conversation with some people, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen them last? Well, they are definitely that kind of relatives. And visiting over sweet, cold watermelon and sweet iced tea only added to our taste of southern hospitality in their home.

I also had another lovely slice of southern hospitality when the host of the board meeting Ken attended in South Carolina arranged for the board member’s wives to attend a “proper Southern Tea” at his sister’s house. That afternoon was a true delight, bless my heart, getting to be in her “Setting Room” and at her fahn dahning room table, and all.

Being the recipient of these hospitality samples got me thinking about what all goes into making guests feel at home, and about the many, many times friends and relatives – and sometimes people we didn’t even know – have offered us this gracious gift. I am humbled and grateful.

Perhaps you have been hospitable to me and/or my family in the past. Thank you. Even if you have never had us in your home for a meal or an overnight stay, I’m going to guess that you have shown hospitality to someone in some way at some point. Thank you.

Thank you for:

Washing the bed sheets and pillow cases from the last time you had overnight guests, taking them (the sheets I mean, not the guests!) out of the dryer or off the line, and wrestling them onto the mattresses to get the rooms ready for us.

Powering on through the stage that occurs between inviting us and having us show up at your front door in which you seriously question what in the world you were thinking when you asked us to come.

Taking time from your stance at the stove to meet us at the door and to shake our hands or give us a hug when we arrived. Your hearty and authentic “Come in, come in!” was so welcoming.

Putting ordinary items into unique containers – like the strawberry jam in a teacup, or the flower garden bouquet in a gravy boat – because somehow that little twist of everyday made us feel special.

Giving up your bedroom for us to use for a few nights. And if it was your children, which is even more likely, who gave up their rooms for our use, please be sure to thank them for me.

Serving us such a lovely set-out breakfast on Sunday morning. Especially appealing were the bunches of grapes and wedges of cheese artfully arranged on the wooden board.

Having your whole family join us for the snack you offered us in your kitchen after our choir program in your church. Your children were so alert and engaged that it made us tell each other later we’re going to have a family like that when we grow up.

Sharing your gift of just plain being a good cook. Those mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes, though. Pooled with flavorful gravy alongside tender roast beef and onions…

Sharing your gift of implementing unusual (to me) ingredients in your dishes, giving me new ideas to try at home. Like cinnamon on roast chicken, rhubarb in a refreshing summer drink, bacon grease as the popping medium for popcorn.

Leaving just enough dust on the bookcase shelves and a cobweb or two in the corner to make me feel like a normal housekeeper.

Cutting the butter into a quilt pattern shape. I noticed that artistic touch, and liked it very much.

Asking us about the hard parts of our life journey, and then crying along with us when we shared them. It was also healing to share laughter with you in the same conversation.

Using your antique and heirloom dishes on the table as if they were Corelle, simply because you believe these family treasures are to be used and enjoyed on special occasions rather than to languish in a cupboard prison. I felt honored that you took the risk of their possible breakage to include me in the handling of your valuable keepsakes.

Showing me ultimate compassion as a hostess. When I was mortified at my youngster puking on your kitchen floor, you got down on your hands and knees to help me clean up the mess.

Taking us on a stroll around your property, a meander through your garden, a tour of your business; for showing us your latest project. I didn’t count that as bragging at all; your interest and passion in your work and hobbies was truly inspiring.

Allowing me to help you in the kitchen but sometimes insisting that I sit on a stool and just talk to you while you work.

Pointing out your washer and dryer for our use – that time we stayed with you awhile – and for setting up the iron and ironing board.

Placing those candies beside the personal welcome note on the nightstand in your guest room. They were a nice gesture.

Giving us such a good time at the all-day gathering of friends and their families at your place, and then fortifying us with hot drinks in to-go cups with lids and snack bags of salties for the two-hour ride home after dark.

Cleaning up after us when we were gone, washing dishes and the boatload of towels and bed linens, putting away the toys and games that our children played with into their right spots again…I sincerely hope you got some time to put your feet up before tackling all of that.

Do you know what is most outstanding about your hospitality? You were yourself with us. That is the very best gift of all. Thank you!

Have you ever received five-star hospitality? What about it impressed you the most?

This Post's Quotable:

My mom and dad related to us an incident they observed at a restaurant when a lady at a table close to theirs began to choke on her food. They heard her wheezing in her struggle for air and watched while several people nearby tried the Heimlich maneuver on her. An attempt by a third bystander dislodged the offending morsel from the choking lady’s throat. While feeling relief at this point in the story, we just hooted with laughter when my dad commented on the probable results of the rescuers being none too gentle in their Heimlich attempts on the woman’s chest. Perhaps Dad’s being well-versed in scripture played into his mistake in word choice: “I would guess that lady had some bruised reeds!”

This Post's Childhood Memory:

I remember my mom’s pineapple upside-down cake. She didn’t make it very often, but how we loved it when she did. From the beautiful red cherry-centered sweet and tart pineapple rings nestled in the buttery brown-sugary syrupy layer on top to the beautiful golden tender cakey layer on the bottom, it was a warm and comforting delight. I could never figure out, though, Mom’s timing in making it. She always seemed to produce the treat right when I had a canker sore on my tongue. The acid from the pineapple really stung the sore in my mouth, and I’d have to decide whether to endure the pain to gain the pleasure or to forego the delicious baking until the next time Mom made pineapple upside-down cake. Just maybe I wouldn’t have a canker sore then!