The Irish are almost unnervingly serious about hospitality. All those movies with kindly housewives insisting the weary traveler sits down for a cuppatea are entirely accurate; wherever we go in this country, either long-expected or unannounced, we never fail to find doors and larders flung open for our much needed respite.

The Crossroads walk, as you know, owes everything to the charity of others. So far (and by that I mean three quarters of the way through the walk) we’ve never gone without a place to sleep, and we’ve never gone hungry. We’ve stayed everywhere from country farms to hillside mansions, and we have many people to thank. Some might say we have simply chosen a fortuitously hospitable country to trek through, while others may suggest that we’re on the receiving end of God’s providence. I say it’s both.

When we return to America next week, I know that I’ll be coming back to a place where this sort of unremitting goodness, while present, is not an everyday practice. I pray that I can become to others what these wonderful hosts have been to us. I hope that I can shed my avaricious and mistrustful nature, so that I may give to others simply because it is the right thing to do. Until then, walkin’ time. Pray for us and for the unborn, and take care.

- Jon C.