What is ordinary to you maybe a desert of woeful newness to another.

Those half-learn'd witlings, num'rous in our isle As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile

Every night we stopped in a cabin where wood had been stacked, matches left, and canned goods laid out for the chance traveler. All the unknown host received in return was a scribbled note giving our thanks, any news we could think of, and our names. This whole system of northern hospitality was a gigantic chain, for while we were eating this man__ beans, he was undoubtedly farther up the trail, eating somebody else__.

Whenever you go on a trip to visit foreign lands or distant places, remember that they are all someone's home and backyard.

I love like I__ thirsty. Can I offer you a tall glass of Sahara sand?_

Instead of practicing philoxenos, which means loving the stranger, we find many times that the church is xenophobic. We forget that Jesus, whom we claim to follow, was the ultimate lover of otherness in people. Even differences in religion didn't freak Jesus out when it came to loving people.