Motherhood, Hospitality, and the Catholic Worker: Vocations that Heal

MANY YEARS AGO, when my oldest child was a baby, my husband Jerry and I visited our friends living at the Winona Catholic Worker for a potluck and roundtable. It was held at Bethany House, our home for single men needing hospitality, and the potluck was a lively mix of long-time guests, friends of the house, live-in volunteers, and visitors. Jerry was talking to a guest (let’s call him Jim) living there at the time, a huge man with a fierce beard but friendly manner. Our son drew attention to his cute self by gurgling, and when Jim said, “That’s a fine baby there,” Jerry responded, “Thanks — why don’t you hold him?”

Jim resisted. “Naw, I’d drop him for sure, he’s so little.” But our small one added to the conversation by flinging open his arms and smiling expectantly. So Jim gingerly picked him up and held him to his chest, and suddenly began to cry.

“No one’s ever trusted me with a baby before,” he said.

So many times the intersection of the work of hospitality and raising children has yielded moments like this. I never thought that at age six months, my son would be doing the works of mercy more effectively than anyone else in the family. Other times, my eight-year-old daughter is the quiet and graceful one who is ready to play fairies with any young guest at the house. And…