“What are you going to do today?”
My daughter and I were chatting before she left for work. I stood near her orange tree, inhaling the sweet smell and watching the birds flit and flutter against a backdrop of a cerulean sky dappled with billowy white clouds.
“Relax.”
The day before, two flights carried me from cold, still-in-the-grip-of-winter Montana to sunny SoCal to visit our daughter A. Now noon, I was still in my jammies, cozied up with their sweet pup under a soft blanket, my coffee cup emptied and the golden roses outside beckoning me through the window.
Hospitality isn’t limited to entertainment or accommodation but can be about creating sacred spaces where others can be seen, known, and heard. My goal has always been to provide a respite spot where my guests and family can find healing, rest, and genuine connection. This art can be passed down through generations, learned through practice and expressed in countless small acts of intentional care.
People will forget what you said.
They will forget what you did.
But they will never forget how you made them feel."
- Maya Angelou
In her absence, she freely offered me a space to sit, to linger, to set up a temporary home, and to leave behind the usual responsibilities of daily life. Having been a guest of many friends and family, today I noticed the absence of pressure. Of expectation. Of a long to-do list or guilt at spending time on a hobby instead of being productive.
It felt like flying free.
As a receiver of the gift of hospitality, I’m reflecting on what makes it so sweet. The origin of words fascinates me:
hospitality (n). hospitālitẹ̄ n Latin and Old French
From Middle English Dictionary: (a) The reception and entertainment of guests and strangers; also, the giving of lodging, sustenance, and care to those in poverty or distress; ~ to, willingness to receive and provide for (the poor); holden (kepen, seuen) ~, to practice hospitality.
The origin of the word “hospital” (French) means a place of shelter for the needy. We think of hospitals as a place for the physically sick, who need care and healing, provided by a variety of medical workers.
In the New Testament, hospitality it is used to describe the Christian duty of welcoming and providing for strangers, reflecting God's love and grace. The Greek word: φιλοξενία (philoxenia). Word Origin: From φίλος (philos, meaning "friend" or "loving") and ξένος (xenos, meaning "stranger" or "foreigner")
While there is no direct Hebrew (Old Testament) equivalent for "philoxenia," the concept of hospitality is reflected in the Hebrew Bible through terms like גּוּר (gur, meaning "sojourner" or "stranger") and חֶסֶד (chesed, meaning "loving-kindness" or "mercy").
Just as the physically ill are suffering and desire respite and healing, I often long for comfort and restoration from the travails of life. Hospitality has been extended to me by those who have given me a place to lay my head, by those who hosted me for a night or a few hours, and by those whose door is simply open anytime I need to walk through it.
Hospitality:
Is often learned
Can be practiced
Is greatly appreciated when it’s done well
My first exposure to hospitality was through my mother. A beloved nurse, she spent decades welcoming patients into clinic examination rooms, helping to ease their fear and discomfort with her soothing voice, her bright smile, her confident demeanor. It’s not surprising that my mom’s generosity and attentiveness are above and beyond normal expectations.
When we turn into the driveway at the farm, I know she will be slowly rising from her chair to greet me, pushing through the pain and aches that are part of her 85-year-old life. She will open the door as I exit the car, her bright eyes shining, a beaming smile just for me. The kitchen counters and table will be cleared so I can drop the small items that seem to multiply on every road trip. Our bedroom will be tidied, bath towels laid out, sunshine streaming through the windows onto a floor with plenty of room for our heavy-laden bags.
We always start with hugs.
And this is a precious gift: my mom grew up in a home nearly devoid of parental love. Her mom didn’t offer hugs or comfort, her elderly father (25 years her mom’s senior) sat crippled in a wheelchair. Money was nearly nonexistent. Friends never came inside her home. Her babysitting money, which she began collecting at age nine, was sacrificially given up for basic family necessities.
How did she become so adept at hospitality?
It doesn’t take Jim long to find the freshly baked goods (she often makes his favorites) and I sink into a comfy chair to enjoy the myriad of birds at their feeders. Mom inquires about our trip, offers us a snack and a drink, her eagerness to make us feel at home making us feel special from the moment we step into the old farmhouse.
Not a coffee drinker, she offers both a drip coffee maker and a Keurig each morning. She keeps our regular breakfast foods on hand and always texts us from the grocery store to ask if she can grab anything we need before we arrive.
At the farm, alarms aren’t encouraged, naps are always on the schedule and sitting on the porch watching the fireflies is one of our favorite summer pastimes.
Mom = comfort.
She is warmth, security, joy, welcome, acceptance. She is wise, intelligent, compassionate, and easy to be around. She is the one who taught me hospitality and she is always the one I will return to when my heart hurts, my body is tired or my soul needs restoration.
She has passed this skill to me, and it has flowed through me to my kids as well. Last year, while visiting our son in California, we were experiencing unusual heat coupled with a busy schedule, which left me with a drained body battery.
“Would you like to take a nap?” He asked.
He had prepared a sweet sleeping spot in his room and generously offered it up. His apartment is quite small, but he noticed that I was wilting and leaned in to help. Thirty minutes later, I emerged, refreshed, and switched places with his girlfriend, also in need of restoration.
Both our daughter and son have a knack
for knowing how to be a good host.
When Jim and I ventured into property management, starting our first Airbnb back in 2018, hospitality was a top priority for me. My goal was to provide the best home-away-from-home experience for our guests. Just as my mom seems to anticipate unique needs, I stepped into the shoes of travelers who stayed in our home, seeking to provide little extras to make them feel special.
As a person who notices every minute detail around her (read more here), hosting for me goes to a whole new level. Thoughts bombarded me:
“Is there a bench to sit on when guests put their shoes on?”
”What items do I wish I had packed when I travel?”
”How can I make being away from home easier and more comfortable?”
Lately, I’ve been watching the newish Netflix series called “Love, Meghan”. The Duchess of Sussex (married to Prince Harry) prepares for dear friends who come to visit. The show includes baking, cooking, crafts, and intentional connection. I’m crafting a list of things to try:
A tea bag for the bath + a delightful mix of Epsom salts and pink Himalayan salt
Ladybug caprese
Lavender towels
Honey lemon cake, filled with buttercream + raspberries
Homemade focaccia bread
Viewing the show has reminded me of how much I love to host gatherings.
In our old house back in Minnesota, we had annual New Year’s Eve parties, wine + cheese tasting events, anniversary celebrations, and immeasurable casual get-togethers. Our home was generously sized and most guests were local, so I rarely had people stay overnight but poured all my energy into connecting and loving our guests.
Things have changed. I’ve changed.
My home no longer can hold huge groups of people. We often have guests who stay for days. My energy level is different, and a small sprout of a liking to cook is peeking out, which has surprised me.
On a recent trip to Germany, I found myself once again noticing the generous hospitality of friends-turned-family. We were invited to use the entire lower level of their home: bedroom, dressing room, shower, and sauna. Instructions were given on how to turn on lights, motion-activated lights were noted, and towels and robes were set out by the entrance to a huge walk-in shower with multiple shower heads. Bottled water was always available - as seasoned travelers they know how drinking local water can create a traveler’s tummy - and the family provided a welcome basket overflowing with snacks for midnight cravings or to take when out and about.
While my mother taught me hospitality through warmth and intuition, my years as an Airbnb Superhost led me to develop a more systematic approach to hosting others. That didn’t mean sanitizing and minimizing our guest spaces, but figuring out which pressure points I felt when traveling and addressing them before guests arrived.
Our years in Toronto helped shape our approach to hosting, particularly during an annual celebration where we welcomed 40 of my husband's employees into our home. Despite the overwhelming logistics of my first experience with catering, this event became a cherished family memory.
We asked our children to greet guests at the door, taking their coats and guiding them to where they could find refreshments. They gained confidence in interacting with all sorts of adults and this early experience helped shape their understanding of how to make others feel welcome and valued.
Hospitality, I've learned, extends far beyond physical presence. Over the years, family and friends have shown me how warmth and care bridge any distance - through perfectly timed care packages, meaningful video chats, and Zoom calls that somehow shrink the miles between us.
As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “True hospitality consists of giving the best of yourself to your guests.” This can easily be accomplished over the miles.
We created thoughtful touches throughout our properties: "I Forgot" drawers in bathrooms stocked with toiletries and personal care items, well-equipped kitchens with coffee stations and snack bins, and bedrooms featuring everything from charging stations to carafes of filtered water.
The best way to find yourself is
to lose yourself in the
service of others.
-Mahatma Ghandi
We paid special attention to comfort with robes, extra blankets, and blackout curtains. Small details mattered: labeled light switches, boot trays for wet shoes, and detailed instructions for anything that might be confusing. Our goal was to anticipate needs before they arose, creating a space where guests could truly relax and feel at home.
No longer a property manager, I still have opportunities to provide hospitality to others.
Longing for female friendship, last year I invited women from our church to meet in my home for bible study and encouragement. The shared values we have because of our faith provided a natural commonality.
My home isn’t decorated to the hilt, our dog sleeps on the couch, and winter ice builds up on the driveway due to frequent dustings of snow. But, I could light a candle in a freshly cleaned bathroom, set out simple snacks, have my mini-Keurig at the ready, and turn on soft, calming music in the background. Coats were hung on the dining room chairs, I often grabbed one of my furry green ottomans to sit on and endless hugs were always part of our parting.
Thinking back to my 20s, I remember a time when my younger brother was struggling and needed a place to live. Hospitality might look like having someone move in temporarily.
I had finally gotten my own apartment after years of having roommates but had the resources to purchase a sofa bed that he slept on. Working the night shift meant he was sleeping as I prepared for work, but we have a long-standing hilarious memory from one day when we went to stock up on groceries.
We had to cross a busy, four-lane suburban street to reach the grocery store. Impulsivity got the best of us and we emerged carrying overstuffed paper bags and carrying heavy crates of pop. As we bolted across the road, the bags started slipping and threatening to spill right there on the roadway. We desparately clung to our food treasures, awkwardly balancing multiple bags on bent legs as we hobbled towards my apartment, tears covering our faces as we howled in infectious laughter. It is one of my most cherished memories with my brother.
We all have different priorities when it comes to welcoming others into our homes, but I pulled together my top recommendations. We aim to cater to the most critical needs of those who visit us often, but you most likely have lots of tips to share too!
I’ve grouped these them into four key areas that together create a welcoming environment for guests:
Comfort & Rest:
Sleep Sanctuary: A comfy bed, extra pillows, extra blankets, a cozy throw blanket, calming linen spray, motion-activated night lights, room darkening curtains.
Bathroom Basics: Plenty of clean towels, washcloths, and hand towels. Body wash, shampoo, and conditioner from a local natural products store. Extra toilet paper, soft rugs, hand soap, lotion, and spray room deodorizer.
“I Forgot” drawer: face-cleaning items, dental care, shaving cream and razor, and other commonly forgotten items.
Navigation & Space:
Welcoming entry: a bench for putting shoes on, a place to set items carried in, a place to put coats and shoes.
Living areas: good lighting, ottomans, throw blankets, soft music, coasters for cups.
Kitchen Access: easy access to coffee and condiments, a space for guest items in the pantry, a shelf in the refrigerator for guests, travel coffee mugs/cups, extra water bottles for filling.
Thoughtful Touches:
Convenience Features: hooks in the bathroom, cozy robes and slippers, hooks for coats in the mud room, easy access to power strips for charging needs, desks for remote work.
Ambiance: a water carafe and glasses, linen spray, candle w/lighter. I always turn on a bedside lamp before our guests arrive and often put flowers into a small vase.
Connection & Care:
Clear Communication: instructions where needed, an invitation to freely roam the house and wake/go to sleep at will. Sharing our schedule and available free times to interact. Discussion of meal plan during the visit.
Extra Mile Service: offering a vehicle for use, providing spaces and times for recharging, having a variety of snacks ready for sharing, and providing fast, reliable WiFi.
Just as sick people go to the hospital, we go to visit the people who love us well, who heal the broken places, celebrate with us, and ignore the messiness of homes and lives in lieu of embracing connection. Hospitality is about creating an atmosphere where people feel noticed, appreciated, and accepted.
As a host, I aim to be a hospital for weary souls.
An introvert at heart, I am still learning the differences between hosting for a few hours versus having others in my home for days on end. Thinking ahead to my need for quiet and solitude, I pull an extra chair in our bedroom for my morning reflection time. Guests are assured that we will spend as much time as we can with them, but they are encouraged to adventure out on their own too. I have realized that I am filled with joy after I bake treats, decorate the table, or arrange flowers to delight those who enter my home.
Whether it’s my mother’s friendly farmhouse welcome, my daughter’s California oasis, or our friend’s German sanctuary, the heart of hospitality beats in how we make others feel: safe, valued, cared for, and completely at home.
What are your favorite ways to bless your guests in your home?
P.S. If you love to host others, check out the book The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker. She examines the why and how of gathering, providing a fantastic resource to help you thoughtfully plan and execute your next memorable event.
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