What does that word mean to you? When you think about being welcomed somewhere, what does it look like? What does it sound like? What does it feel like?
I grew up Italian, and even if my grandma married in, she was Italian through and through. I’ll never forget showing up at Grandma’s house and hearing, “Come in, how are you? How was the ride? Are you hungry?” while being wrapped up in hugs and ushered into her home. To this day if I smell something that reminds me of her home like a roast cooking on the stove, I feel welcome – I literally feel it.
Welcome was more than just opening the door and allowing me to come inside.
It was enveloping me in love. It was making sure my needs were met. It was serving me with grace and engaging me with intention.
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