Rescuing a friend

I like to think of my home as an oasis, a place where the water is sweet and the lodging secure. Like a Bedouin tent in the desert, the lamp shines brightly across the miles of inhospitable sand and friendship is offered even amongst the inhospitable natives who reside here.
One of the great discoveries I made was the difference that culture and formality makes to a nation and how a genuine interest and an open door epitomises the link we make to everyone.
'An Englishman's home is his castle' and one normally finds the entrance guarded.
In some countries an invitation to spend the night is common and the welcome is part of a psychological acknowledgement that we all contribute to each other's health and welfare, especially if the people likely to offer are themselves part of a minority within the country. 

Perhaps it's a feeling of insecurity which makes increasing the numbers under the roof more secure or perhaps the sound of a common language makes the conversation more precious. What ever the reason we are not good in this country at offering space within the home since in my own experience there has been an instinctive reluctance to play the role of 'mine host'.

It doesn't seem to matter how far you have travelled or how late it is there is no, "would you like to sleep here tonight" which was the standard response in South Africa. 



I'm sure there is no ulterior motive it's simply that it never occurs to people here. Perhaps a hangover from the times when we never ventured far and lived our lives within a small compass, everyone's home was within walking distance. Or perhaps we are a grudging lot unable to feel charitable when the margins in our own life are narrow. Perhaps it also leads to a narrowing of perspective and we judge everything in terms of self interest.
For myself my door is always open and I would feel it a privilege to come out at whatever hour to rescue a friend !!!