The Hostesses

"This morning after breakfast I think we will deliver those Christmas gifts you brought with you," my sister-in-law said to our family as we sat in her dining room overlooking the beautiful skyline of Quito.

After the morning dishes were done, we went through our suitcases to unearth the toys we had brought for one of the Ecuadorean pastors who had five young children.  We wrapped the present in festive holiday paper, added some ribbon and we were set to go.

We piled into Jim's brother's old blue Suburban station wagon and we began the windy ride down the hills, through the city streets, and to the outskirts of Quito.  As we drove up to the pastor's home we felt like we had crossed into another world.  We had driven from a neighborhood with beautiful gated homes into a place with large holes in the roads and lots a dogs running loose through the streets.  The houses were stucco rectangles and very modest.  My sister-in-law jumped out of the car with her usual exuberance, grabbed the bag of gifts and motioned for all of us to come along.

"Hola hola."

Quickly the wife of the pastor responded and came to the front entrance, arms opened wide, speaking warm greetings.  Soon her five children appeared with shy smiles on their faces.

My sister-in-law spoke to the family in Spanish, hugging each of the children. Then she told us that the chairs that had been set out in the living room were for us. We felt uneasy to take the only seats when there were not enough for everyone to sit but the lady of the house insisted.

As we were settling in, I noticed the mother pulling her eldest daughter aside, giving her a few coins and shooing her out the door.  We listened as more rapid Spanish was being spoken, trying to pick out enough words to understand what was being said.  Suddenly the young girl reappeared carrying a bottle of orange Fanta soda and one sleeve of Ritz crackers.

My head dropped as I tried to gain my composure.  We had come to bring gifts to this family who had so few earthly possessions they fit in a three room house. They barely had money and I could not believe this beautiful lady chose to honor us with the little she had.  It was one of the most generous acts of hospitality of I have experienced.

Last November I received a telephone call from a friend.  "Are you free next Friday," was the question on the other end.

"I think so," was my response.

"Good," was my friend's answer.  "Save the day."

A day later a beautiful electronic invitation arrived in my e-mail Inbox inviting me to a birthday luncheon in my honor.  I was a bit embarrassed at the attention and secretly excited at the thought of a wonderful gathering with a few ladies.  I knew my friend and I knew everything would be elegant and delicious.  No detail would be overlooked.

I was right!  The lady of this house had her dining room table set with a gold cloth table cloth.  She had laid out her best china, crystal and silverware.  She serve red tomato bisque soup she made from scratch.  Salad and a delicious chicken crescent ring followed. We ended the afternoon with cake and a scrumptious assortment of handmade cookies and pastries.

After opening beautifully wrapped gifts and drinking one last china cup full of coffee, it was time to say good-bye.  As each lady put on her coat and gave hugs, my friend gave of herself one more time--she had made favors for each of us to remember this wonderful day.

When I got home and try to describe every detail of the party to Jim, I kept hearing myself say,  "I can't believe all she did for me!"  It was extraordinary.

Just this week I was thinking about my two hostesses.  It occurred to me that I had the same response to both ladies--I was humbled by their offerings of themselves and their precious resources.  In the presence of someone's best (no matter how simple or grand) it is love and value that is communicated.  My best and your best are not only "good enough" they are perfect.