At seven years old, hospitality was a small glass of sprite with three ice cubes and two oatmeal scotchies on a china plate. Nose barely reaching the pink-tiled counter top, I smiled up at my proper English Grandmother and waited. Steam billowing from her matching tea cup, together we covered the seven steps from the kitchen to the dining room. I nibbled my cookie and tried to remember to keep one hand in my lap pressed on my napkin as she asked me questions about Second Grade. “Yes Ma’am.” “No Ma’am.” I was polite and used my fanciest table manners in an attempt to distract her from the child using her prettiest china. Long before I knew the word….
I am beyond delighted to be sitting around the GraceTable today chatting about Children, Hospitality and Generosity– pull up a chair and join us there to read the rest?
Image courtesy of GraceTable.Org