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Guest Books

Don’t forget to be friendly to outsiders, for in so doing,

some people, without knowing it,

have entertained angels.

Hebrews 13:2

A while ago, I cleaned out a small desk. Along with dried-out pens, and outdated waste schedules, I found a Visitor’s Book.

I bought that visitor’s book nearly twenty-five years ago. Like the ones my mother had, it was meant to keep a record of those who visited and shared meals with us. Alas, the most recent entry is 2007, so the book was a bit of a fail, but the names that are there remind me of good times.

There’s the signature of my husband’s buddy, recording a happy visit after they hadn’t seen each other in years. There are names from a reunion of friends, long ago teenagers, from a summer job I’d once had, and folks who came to my dad’s 70th birthday party. As well, there are signatures of family and friends who came to our daughter’s nursing graduation party, and others who attended another daughter’s wedding rehearsal meal. Most precious of all is the writing of relatives no longer with us.

But the memories in my book are so few compared to my mother’s. Her books are a genuine archaeological site; and layers of family history are revealed when the pages are turned.

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