Hospitality

Living through the Pandemic did not make me a “lover of hospitality”. Instead, I adapted to alone time, and my introverted self rather liked it. The Pandemic is over, but we still live in a small one-bedroom apartment, so can’t I excuse myself from “the fellowship of the saints”? To do so would have been to miss the blessings of this past week, and to not have sung “Dare to be a Daniel,” with Jon Luke, Michael, and their sons. Dr. Simone from Nepal would have missed observing the Church in Queens if we wouldn’t have had supper together with these California brethren (where Dr. Simone first met our people) in our tiny apartment.

These brethren left us with piles of good memories from our time together – not just in our home but also at the mission, while watching soccer in Flushing Meadows, and seeing the joyful dance of the Tibetans in the playground near here – and the Harold Klassen family arrived. I figured the days of filling the living area had given way to nicer motel rooms where a person has their own bathroom so didn’t invite them for night until after they arrived. But they needed a place; we have the space; they stayed, and we were blessed, (Though it was a bit squished with two air mattresses and a sofa bed. Harold and Becky and their children wouldn’t let me do a thing with making up or taking down beds, which made them easy keepers.) There’s nothing quite like devotional time and breakfast with the relatives, especially since we are morning people.

I will quit writing to clean my little apartment and make soup for supper – the relatives are coming. 😊

We love having you in our home. (And if you want to take us out for supper to a nearby ethnic restaurant, we’ll accept.) Berniece