"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." The Bible
The
third-biggest retailing holiday is one day away. Just behind Christmas
and Father's Day, Valentine's Day will be celebrated by spending $13
billion on anything heart-shaped, chocolate-flavored or rose-scented.
While
never refusing dark chocolate nor snubbing floral deliveries, I'm just
not into either this year. OK. Maybe I'm still into chocolate. My hubby
will be out-of-town on Valentine's Day, so it just won't be a very big
deal; it'll be celebrated upon his return. But apparently, very few
others feel the same way. A recent report by Kiplinger's found that men
out-spend women three to one, spending an average of $92. Last year, 175
million roses were produced for Valentine's Day alone, more than enough
for every adult in America to get one.
Frankly, I've never been
one to fall wholeheartedly into the whole Valentine's Day ritual. Don't
buy my hubby silk boxers with little hearts all over them; don't
question our marriage if he walks in the door sans roses. So rather than
give you yet another creative take on the Valentine's Day "holiday,"
I'm going to brag about a fellow rocket mom.
My friend, Kim,
rocket mom to four kids (all within five years) sent out via email an
invitation to a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" luncheon at her home. I had
assumed that she was including her closest friends, but it turned out
that she was inviting only those women who were serving in various
caretaking--or shepherding--capacities at our church for her children.
She wanted it to be casual; again, I assumed it was kind of a
"drop-in-as-you-feel-like-it" kind of a party. But instead, it was a
sit-down affair, with homemade chicken soup, salad, rolls and home-baked
cookies.
Kim made a conscious decision to make adult friendships a
high priority in her life, and despite feelings of being overwhelmed,
or of being intimidated by entertaining styles of some of her other
acquaintances, she was inspired to do something simple, yet meaningful.
After
a lovely afternoon of lunching with new and old friends, Kim presented
us with Valentine's goodies bags: chocolates tied with a pretty ribbon
and a quote, each of us receiving something unique.
"I believe
your quote will speak directly to you," Kim said as, one by one, we read
our quotes and nodded, some of us with lumps in our throats, about the
uncanny effect that this little ritual had on us. (Sort of like opening a
Chinese fortune cookie to discover what seems like a "fortune" written
just for you, only better...)
When I reflect back on those
memories which evoke the strongest sentiments, invariably they include
those times when someone enveloped me into her cocoon, wrapping me with
simple things, like hot food, fresh coffee and undivided attention. When
a girlfriend grabbed me for my birthday or for moving away or just
after childbirth, to enjoy a warm meal surrounded by all the creature
comforts of her home. Those special times don't come all that
frequently, and so we remember them with special fondness. And so the
older I get, the more convicted I become to practice hospitality to
others when opportunities spring into my path.
This weekend, we
had the opportunity to extend hospitality to a traveling drama troupe
from Cape Cod. They were to perform the 15th century play, Everyman, in
our town, before we got buried under the 26" of snow which hit the
entire northeast corridor early Sunday morning. The team of eight needed
three different homes in which to stay, and we offered ours as one of
them. The plans took an obvious shift when we became stranded at home,
as we sit on top of a mountain at the mercy of a private snow plower. So
what we thought would be a weekend of entertaining for a couple of
meals and a few warm beds turned into a solid two days of long chats by
the fire, a half-dozen pots of coffee and a few more times around the
kitchen table than we had originally planned.
And we were all so
blessed. One of the gentlemen whom we housed remarked: "I'll bet in
twenty years you'll all look back on this weekend and say 'Remember when
those three guys from the Cape came and stayed with us and we got stuck
in the biggest snowstorm to have ever hit New England?'"
And of course, we all will.
There's
a game which is frequently played in adult discussion circles which
goes something like: "Write down the names of three Academy Award
winners for Best Actress; write down the names of three Olympian
gold-medal winners; write down the names of blah-blah-blah." (You get
the idea) It finishes by asking you to write down the names of three
teachers you had an impact on your life.
And of course, we can do that without batting our eyes.
Human
connection. Extension. Intimate interaction. That's what has impact.
That's what has meaning. Evokes the strongest memories. Conveys true
love.
So on Valentine's Day this year, I will try to do those
seemingly small yet powerful love acts that might, in some way, have
eternal significance. Flowers? Chocolate? Yeah. They're all great. But
opening my door to a stranger. Giving my hubby and my kids undivided
attention. Leaving simple gifts on my children's pillows. Writing a
meaningful letter. Calling a long-lost friend. Following Kim's example
of hospitality. Those will be my inspirations for Valentine's Day this
year.
Simple Love Acts
Reviewed by jembe
Published :
Rating : 4.5
Published :
Rating : 4.5
