I want to tell you a story this evening of something that happened to me many many many years ago. I had gone on holiday to a place called Luxor in Egypt. I stayed at the Novotel and whilst there the tour guide said if an Egyptian invites you to their home never refuse the invitation because it could be taken as an insult.
One day I had decided to take a ride around the town in a horse-drawn carriage. The carriage driver said would you like to come to my house for dinner in very broken English. I remember the words of the tour guide and I said why but of course I would be honoured to come to your house for dinner. He said he would meet me at a particular time which he did.
I arrived at his home to find that it had been built from clay bricks. In a traditional method going back centuries. The chickens we’re running in and out of his house I did not know what to say so I thought I would say nothing. His wife then approached me she was a rather rotund lady with an engaging personality. I was treated right royally. There was nothing that they would not do for me. I felt like a King and the food that they placed before me was fit for a king.
I learnt a valuable lesson that day which I have never forgotten even though it was a quarter of a century ago. The lesson I learnt was the never judge a book by its cover. If I am ever invited into the house of a poor person I never refuse their hospitality because you never know they may give you it may be the best feast going. They may sacrifice for themselves in order that you might have.
And may God bless you this evening