I often notice doors when I travel, the color or size or ornamentation. Here are some I noticed while traveling around France on my Overseas Adventure Travel (O.A.T.) tour.
In Lyon, sometimes the door caught my eye, but more often it was the decorative work above the door that entranced me.
Red doors on churches often catch my eye. The one on the left is in Paris and the one on the right is in Bayeux.
Purple is my favorite color, so the doors to this church in Sarlat won my heart.
At Christmas Eve Mass, the priest asked us to recall a time when we had been the recipient of generous hospitality. He had been talking about the lack of hospitality Mary and Joseph experienced in Bethlehem, and then he shared a time he had experienced unexpected hospitality during a trip to Ireland.
The memory that came to mind was the time I had moved out of the l’Arche community feeling disillusioned and disappointed. My pride was wounded, and I was too distressed to make a decision about my next move. I felt let down and lost. After all, I had moved to l’Arche expecting to be there the rest of my life, and only a few months after arriving, I was leaving.
It took me a while to realize that my expectations had been way too high and to own why l’Arche did not work out for me. On the day I left the community, though, I was desolate.
Fortunately, the Sisters at the Benedictine Monastery invited me to stay with them for a week, which gave me a little breathing room.
A friend then invited me to stay at her house for as long as I needed. She would be away but her upstairs tenant (whom I knew) was looking after her house and there was plenty of room.
Unfortunately, the upstairs tenant did not share my friend’s generous spirit. She said I could stay for one night and then had to find someplace else. It wasn’t that there was no room, but rather that this woman was just inhospitable.
I felt so unwelcome that I did not even stay that one night.
Instead, I drove away discouraged and thinking that I would have to sleep in my car that night.
I had plans to meet a friend for coffee in the afternoon, and I was in tears by the time I got to the café.
Learning this latest development, my friend arranged for me to stay in her Mennonite community at the home of a young couple who had an extra bedroom. I moved in that evening.
I can still remember the couple opening their front door and inviting me inside. The welcome I received from this couple and the rest of the community was incredibly warm, and I immediately felt at home. The community shared everything they had; their attitude was that there is always room for one more.
It didn’t matter to them that I had no money or job, that I was spiritually and emotionally drained or that I had very little to contribute. They accepted me as I was and included me as a full-fledged member. They loved me back into wholeness, and I can still feel my heart swell with gratitude at their kindness toward me.
Their hospitality was what I wished for Mary and Joseph upon their arrival in Bethlehem.
I was grateful for the priest’s invitation to recall how blessed I was by generous hospitality.
What is your memory of hospitality?
Madeline Bialecki 