I’m standing in the freezing cold, tapping my foot and sighing.
|Backpacks by the door.|
We get inside, and I’m scurrying around to empty backpacks and neatly replace them on their hooks.
My oldest (the one whose fame lasted till lunch) pulls me aside and whispers, “Mom, what happened to the warm welcome?”
The warm welcome? Please, child. It’s been a long day.
But she’s right. I love these children. Why can’t I just give a warm welcome? As we talk about what we could do to welcome each other into the home, she makes this list:
The Warm Welcome
1. Smile and say, “I’m so glad to see you.”
2. Offer a snack and a refreshing beverage.
3. Play soft music or light a candle for a peaceful mood.
4. Please don’t ask questions or give orders.
That’s the Warm Welcome. It turns out that even asking how somebody’s day was can feel like pressure. My daughter tells me to wait until she’s settled in before asking her questions.
I seem to recall marriage advice along the same lines.
How many family and neighbor entrances have I clouded with my impatience, my demands, and my agenda? When a family member returns home, what if I didn’t ask questions, give orders, or rush?
I stop my scurrying, put on some music, light our pumpkin candle, and pour a glass of orange juice as my daughters transition from out there to in here.
Living with flair means I learn the Warm Welcome. You’ve been out there. Come inside. We are so glad you’re here.