The three or four days had turned into fourteen days. Finally, we could stop looking down and again greet guests. Hospitality is the hardest thing we do. Someone is always sick or angry or drunk. Babies are born around the clock.
People have to find a place to move to.
Or the immigrants call St. Joseph's parish to say we are not nice enough, when refused something we cannot offer. Or, after receiving a bed, food, clothing, medicine, dental and medical care and trasporation to wherever they want to go, they come with a few rusty cans of food from a church pantry to ask why we can't be nice like these Christians. It goes on and on and on and on and on. True, if we can't stand the heat, we should move out of the kitchen. But fortunately, the heat of God's love and that of the immigrants can counteract any pain, even the heat of Hell's kitchen.