Well, I see that we share many things in common when it comes to hospitality blunders. I am enjoying all your stories. Funny how the most trying moments make the best stories after the fact.
Once we had a family coming through town who needed a place to hook up their camper for a couple of days. We had never met them, but we arranged for them to park in a friend’s driveway. When they arrived with their four boys, we told them that we had arranged hospitality for them, but they insisted on staying with us. We had a very small house (around 900 square feet) and my parents were visiting. It was one of those moments, and what could we do but say, “Oh, sure.”
Our one tiny bathroom then became shower central while the family took turns getting showered (they had been on the road a while), and I remember going into the kitchen to pray for grace once I realized I was fixing for dinner for the gang. One of my girls came in from the back yard to tell me that the boys were being pretty rough with her tricycle. I remember explaining to her that they just might be angels, so we had better be nice, but I could tell that she didn’t buy it.
After doing a quick inventory in the kitchen, I proceeded to make the old stand-by, a very large vat of mac and cheese. And they were the kind of guests who were very grateful and easy to please. (Not like the visitor who once told my mother-in-law that he would rather have spaghetti when she had served him a pork chop. Believe it or not, she fixed him spaghetti, and my children still refer to him as the paragon of rude behavior!)
But back to my story. Despite the rough start, it turned out rather well. The lady had been very lonely for some female company and my mom, bless her, sat down and had a cup of tea with her while I fussed around in the kitchen. Meanwhile, my dad visited with the husband, and the boys stayed occupied in the back yard. We all felt like God had enabled us to provide for these needy people, despite the fact that we were totally unprepared. And we got the surprise blessing.