Thursday, January 24, 2013

our only sauce is gratitude

The best feeling in the world is returning home and finding that the tea pot is not in fact empty, but full of water, waiting to be boiled.
It's a very cozy and home-y feeling. 
Because it's a reminder that there are others living with you, others sharing that teapot.

Way back in the dark ages of the fall semester, weighed down by work, reading, and homework that we weren't doing, my friend and I decided to be roommates.
LET'S PRAY TO ST. FRED, she typed in all caps, because Google anointed him the patron saint of roommates.
We found out that Google has no imprimatur, and that St. Fred was not, in fact, a real saint.
WAIT DON'T PRAY TO HIM,  she typed in a panic, HE'S A FAKE SAINT.

After dissolving into giggles, we let the matter rest.
Fake or not, St. Fred has apparently worked some magic.
In this cozy little basement flat, we've welcomed each other into the adventures of our own lives.
What makes a house a home, I think, is hospitality.
It lights up a house better than our bright overhead incandescents or the large windows.
It warms up a room more toastily and cozily than our thermostat (which is saying something, since our thermostat was set to 30 degrees celsius the other night [that's 86 degrees Fahrenheit. Ouch.])

I began to notice this hospitality around me when I realized that our door lock is often jammed open, so that visitors wander in and out as they please. A knock on the door is answered with several cheerful: Come in!s

The warmth we cultivate amongst ourselves spills over to all those who enter our homes.

I am so thankful to come home every day to three wonderful children who greet me with simultaneous hugs that keep me from closing the door, and a wonderful wife who can lean over them to give me a kiss.  
--Mark Kocovski, ND

I am so thankful to arrive back home to a flat every evening filled with nine other beautiful young women (and usually a stray visitor or two), who greet me with laughter, smiles, and plenty of sass as soon as I walk in the door, and a kitchen table where we can gather around and share our days, our adventures, the stress of buying groceries, and trying to survive in a strange city.
And somehow, all together, we've made a home.

1 comment:

  1. Renee, this sounds so awesome! I'm so excited for your time in such a misty and magical city. Keep up the blog posts--they're inspiring! I look forward to reading them.
    xoxo isabel