The Perfect Hosts

It was always in the summertime.  

The honeysuckle was in full bloom.

I know this because the 

memory is 

firmly imprinted in my mind.

They weren't flashy people, at all.

His name was Bert.

She was Marguerite.

We called her Aunt Marg.

In reality Aunt Marg and Uncle Bert

were my Dad's Aunt and Uncle.

Both my brother and I would get so 

excited at the prospect of visiting these

dear people in the quiet and depressed

town of Franklin, PA...
formerly a bustling

part of the oil boom 
in the Northwest part of the State.

You may wonder what made these visits so 

very special.  Especially when one realizes that

this retired couple most likely lived on their 

social security and had very little.

It wasn't about money or what it could buy,

I remember the gentle squeak of the porch

swing with the fragrant honeysuckle 

in bloom right behind it.

There were the ice pops handed out 

as if they were 

the richest treat ever!

Mostly, I remember the smiles of contentment

worn by these sweet elderly people.

They were open.

They took time.

It was about having all of the time in the 

world, really.

One never felt that they had to get on to

the next thing and that you 

were in the way...

No.

When you were their guest 

it was their joy to talk, 

or sometimes just sit in 

stillness and watch the gentle

activities of a neighborhood.

I imagine now that Aunt Marg

and Uncle Bert are a major

factor in the fact

that I so treasure our elderly friends.

They were interesting, full of great stories

and interesting projects.

They were wise...but not perfect.

And that was o.k.

Who is?

While the adults would catch up on

the happenings of those they mutually 

knew.  Allan and I would listen and learn.

Learn about people.

Learn about life.

One day many years ago Uncle Bert

quietly passed away in his favorite chair.

I remember thinking that this was the 

way to go.  

Quickly and in your favorite

comfy chair

although I did feel badly that this couple

was no more....they went together so well.

Years later Aunt Marg also went to be with 

Jesus.  We drove hours to be at her funeral.

Not because she was flashy, famous 

or anyone that you would notice on the 

street.  That wasn't Aunt Marg.

But because in those Summer Days

that can probably be counted on one 

hand....this couple blessed Allan and I

with their hospitality and friendship.

What a gift!