Southern Hospitality

Hospitality is inbred in anyone who was born below the Mason-Dixon Line. We may forget it, squelch it, ignore it, and even curse it, but it’s always there. Kindness to strangers (even those for whom “bless his heart” is the only appropriate comment), family, extended family, and most especially, Northerners, is requisite. The most prevalent form of hospitality is food.

We take casseroles or fried chicken to anyone who is in trouble, be it legal, emotional, or religious. Cheating husband? Coleslaw. Speeding ticket? Fresh buttermilk biscuits and honey from your own hive. Favorite pastor leaving for another town? Definitely, chicken in any form, be it casserole or hot wings. I even collect dishes from Goodwill (nice ones, of course) to leave with my food offerings so there’s no pressure to return the chafing dish, etc.

Recently, a visitor to our town, invited by our church, was a little less than forthcoming with her arrival information. We had no idea where she was staying (normally, we make hotel arrangements at a five star hotel), how she was getting here, or even when. We rolled with it, but one aspect buffaloed us completely. She declined all invitations to lunch.

Now, lunch is the one meal we never ignore when we have a guest who is leaving before dinner. Be it in a restaurant or a home, it’s basic hospitality, as far as we Southerners are concerned. And this person flat-out refused. No reason. Just “no.” I have to admit, the church ladies were a bit flummoxed, not to mention, miffed. We consoled each other by reminding ourselves that she was from a Western state, and perhaps had never learned the rules of hospitality. Not her fault, poor dear. Heads were shaken. Eyes lifted to heaven, imploring forgiveness. We sighed and proceeded to forgive her ignorance.

Sometimes you really do enter a foreign land when you travel around the U.S. Unspoken rules are easy to break. I am sure there are hundred of them of which I am in total ignorance. Hence my post here today. Remember, if you head for the South and you are invited to break bread with your hosts, accept the invitation. It’s one rule that must never be broken.