Grocery cart piled high, food for the week of a family of 6
Extra produce thrown in to feed the ten
Or is it twelve?
Paper plates, extra cups, a simple drink for the crowd
Nothing fancy; everyone brings a side to share
The total adds up.
Extra $10, extra $20.
What does hospitality cost anyway?
Shoes by the doorway, dirt on the floor
Handprints down the hallway
Kitchen needs tidied, bathrooms need cleaned
The dinner is cooking, an extra table to set
The list gets longer.
The total adds up.
Extra 60 minutes, extra 90.
What does hospitality cost anyway?
The calendar on the fridge stares back,
Always whispering, telling us where we need to be and when
More for work, more for “us”
Always asking to be filled, never satisfied with empty space
No time, no time for that.
The total adds up.
Extra weekend evening, extra Sunday afternoon.
What does hospitality cost anyway?
Lingering by a fire, chairs pulled up all around
The call for decaf coffee, the warmth taking the edge off the chill
The smoke wafts up, a beautiful star filled night
Children run, playing hide and seek
Laughter, silence, stories- all pass round the circle.
The total adds up.
Extra lives to know, extra people to love.
What does hospitality cost anyway?
If we kept all the receipts, would we say,
“Here’s for the food, here’s for the time,
Here’s for the cleaning, here’s for the lives?”
And when the total came through,
Would we find ourselves richer
For all we gave away?
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