No, Don't Bother
Have you ever noticed how often people tell you not to do something nice for them? As if by rote, people say, "No, don't bother, stop."
I was thinking about this last week, when we had a lovely, relaxed houseguest who accepted our hospitality with grace and ease. Maria's guesting skills were infinitely more artful than my hostessing skills. She taught me a lot.
For example, Maria made me realize how many lady houseguests we've had who seemed to think that they were expressing gratitude by acting (mock) angry or irritated. They nervously buzzed around and told me that I shouldn't have prepared dinner or spent money on flowers for their room.
Maria was relaxed, sincerely grateful and interested in discussing things besides how wrong it was to treat her well. She didn't keep monetary score and constantly nag me about evening things up. She didn't spoil a pleasant meal by saying, "Okay, I'll let you buy this lunch, but I am going to buy dinner."
I followed her fine example by accepting her gifts and kindnesses, too. I was a bit taken aback when she gave me a jar of expensive wrinkle cream, but we're old pals (older than I realized, apparently).
At meal time, Maria didn't bash around in my kitchen, admonishing, "Don't go to all this trouble! Oh, stop! Don't cook! I feel terrible! Well, if you're going to cook dinner, you must let me take you out for breakfast!"
No, Maria just enjoyed the simple, easy meals I prepared, and praised them to the skies. She also accepted the little niceties I put in her room. She didn't treat my meals and little offerings like flea market finds, haggling over their value.
She realized that I was wordlessly offering her the gift of quiet, chore-free relaxation in my home, and she graciously accepted it. (After all, I can't afford to give her wrinkle cream!)
Maria's behavior was a stark contrast to the lady who stayed with us not too long ago. After a long, exhausting day away from home, she and I walked into a cold, empty house.
I said, "Would you like a cup of hot tea?"
She said, "Only if it's already made. I don't want to be any trouble."
May I encourage you to calmly accept any little kindnesses that might come your way? I suggest that you say something charming, instead of "You shouldn't have!" "I didn't get anything for you, and now I feel bad!" "Oh, no, you went to all of this trouble!"
Take it from me, and my relaxed friend Maria: It is quite enough to say, "Thank you! I've always wanted wrinkle cream!"