Only One Night for Me

After a dinner of spaghetti, green beans, and chicken, the kids grabbed the hula hoops and raced around the room. The cooks remembered a time when children should be seen and not heard when the grownups are talking, but those days are gone forever.

On the bright side, social interaction, even the raucous kind, was welcome.

It was refreshing to see children---strangers---from different families playing together sans electronic devices.

Liv, Lorie, and Leda relax after doing the dishes.

This week was our turn to make dinner for Home and Hope, a network of 30 Peninsula churches and synagogues who provide temporary shelter for displaced families.

It was also a chance for people from different circumstances to spend a few hours together. We swapped stories about the places we grew up and how we came to live in the most beautiful place on earth. We talked about our childhood and parents.

The volunteers left around 8, and Hank and I rolled out our sleeping bags. I didn't sleep comfortably, but, unlike our new friends, the lack of comfort will only last one night.