All of my travel writing blogs, so far, have been about places to which I/we go.
Sally and I also enjoy hosting friends and family in our home, in our community, and in our state.
Since my youngest daughter Julie is coming home this weekend, along with her friend Adair, it occurs to me I ought to say a word about travel in the other direction, when people come to our house, when they come here instead of us going there.
Monday nights, every week, we have our oldest daughter Jenna, her husband Thorne, and their son Lake for supper. YAY! They live just three blocks away, but we still love having them.
Julie (by herself), or Julie with her husband Tom, come when they can from Boston, a few times each year. We always have the light on for them.
Brothers, cousins, uncles, nephews and other relatives make regular use of our guest bedroom.
Our lives are also enriched by people who are not family who come in our direction for a meal or for a semester.
If I start making a list, I will surely leave somebody out, but we have been blessed by Becky, Irina, Sissi and others who feel (to us) as if they are our adopted daughters.
Lydia Raw came for Thanksgiving one year, all the way from England.
Just making the point: Whenever someone goes somewhere, the trip is made more enjoyable by gracious hosts. Hospitality: It’s in the Bible. You can look it up: “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.”