The winding road of my summer adventures carried me first to my mother's delightful front porch. Sipping cold iced tea while listening to happy children frolic about the large front yard situated so beautifully at the top of Whispering Oaks Lane brought great refreshment to my road weary soul. The rhythmic creaking of the swing and the wind rustling through the leaves created a subtle symphonic background for delightful conversations as well as contemplative moments of reading and thinking. New goals were set, prayers were prayed, books were read, and relationships were nourished because of the creative endeavors of my precious, hospitable mother.
As I soaked in the moments of refreshment, I contemplated the many memories of hospitality she demonstrated before me as a young girl. The doors of her home were always open, and her graciousness stretched to needy young children who came from broken homes, to lonely old men and women who often were overlooked by others, to isolated international students looking for a second family, to neighbors, to friends, to friends of her children, and most of all to her family. She could host intimate settings with simple food for a few, or create a smorgasbord of deliciousness for large gatherings.
Her legacy of hospitality created a burning desire within me to work a little harder, reach a little farther, give a little deeper of myself and my home in order to refresh the souls of others in the same manner I have seen her refresh so many. I left her home so thankful for her open door and extended arms, and so renewed for the trip I had before me.
No comments:
Post a Comment