Everyone had gone to bed, and the house was finally quiet. I had almost forgotten about the small Styrofoam cooler until it caught my eye and made my mouth water. It was Christmas Eve, and the day had been long.
At the time, I was serving a mid-sized suburban church. My day began with carols sung alongside the church choir in the hospital lobby across the street. This was followed by communion in the chapel with hospital staff who couldn’t make it to Christmas Eve worship services. I preached at two services and assisted with two more. Afterward, my family celebrated together with our usual merriment, and, as always, I was the last one awake on Christmas Eve.
I had missed my husband’s Sunday school class party that year—a gathering I always loved, in part because of the coconut cake that was a staple of their festivities. The generous baker of that cake was also the person who created and ran the media for our contemporary worship services.
After finishing my last sermon that night, she called me back to the production booth, pointed to the cooler, and let me know what was inside. My excitement was instant! I sent it home with my husband and continued with the rest of the services.
It wasn’t until the house was dark and everyone was asleep that I noticed the cooler pushed back on the kitchen counter.
Inside, I found not just the cake but a note rolled up like a scroll with a fork inside, tied with a ribbon.
Two years ago, I framed that note. Every year, I pack it away with the Christmas decorations and then pull it back out again the following year.
It’s a reminder of the sweetness and significance of simple hospitality—of what happens when we welcome neighbors and strangers to our tables.
May it bless and inspire you as it does me.
One of my favorite childhood memories is visiting my great aunt (who was more like my great grandmother) in Louisiana. When we walked through Aunt Jo’s front door, we were greeted with a big hug, and the aroma of an amazing meal she had spent the day preparing for. I remember how special I felt eating at her table. She always served meals in her formal dining room, using her finest china, crystal, and silver flatware. She had a way of making everyone, even the kids, feel comfortable at that beautiful table.
Aunt Jo was known and loved in her community for her radical hospitality. She loved to go all out, and make sure everyone at her table felt welcomed, whether they were family or strangers, young or old. During the depression and World War II, she opened her home to anyone who needed a meal or a bed to sleep in. No doubt, she unknowingly entertained angels. She was a wonderful, Godly woman who provided a great example to our family.
Growing up, I spent hours polishing silver with Aunt Jo, my grandmother and mother. l watched these women serve with their whole lives, and they always offered their very best. No guest would be provided a tarnished utensil! Each piece of silver was inspected and polished before every meal. And everything had to be ready to use at the drop of a hat. Aunt Jo’s silver flatware pattern is named Grande Baroque and to me it always represented going the extra mile to make others feel special.
This fork is a piece from her silver that was passed to my grandmother and then to me. I want you to have it as a thank you for encouraging us all to practice radical hospitality and feed our neighbors both physically and spiritually.
From this Christmas forward, the family silver service is twice as special to me. I like to imagine the hundreds if not thousands who have been served with this fork at their plate. They may have been family, friends, neighbors, pastors, war widows, or “hobos” (which my grandmother explained to me meant “homeward bound” and these people were just looking for a place to call home)
This silver has always represented the love and hospitality shown by ALL the women in my family who came before me, including my Aunt Jo, both my grandmothers, my aunts and of course my mother. And now the missing fork in the set of silver will always remind me of you and what God has done in our community and the importance of heeding the call to Feed His Sheep. Thank you for showing me another way to exercise radical hospitality.
Merry Christmas, Heather!!!
Love Kim
In 2018, I had the joy of walking alongside a congregation to start my first dinner church. That dinner church just started its eighth year. Since then, I’ve seen God transform hundreds of individuals, churches, and communities around tables.
Hospitality, a gift of the Holy Spirit, is each and everyone’s calling. To make people feel seen, noticed, acknowledged and loved makes the world a better place.
As Mother Teresa says we do it through small things with great love.
