Radical Hospitality

I'm still reading my book on radical hospitality, and am not quite prepared to digest it here (especially as I haven't finished it), but it occurred to me last night, after reading a few snippets, that children are the ultimate practitioners: until a certain age, they have open hearts, don't judge others, imagine the impossible, and welcome everyone, even absolute and possibly dangerous strangers, while, however, respecting their own boundaries. Of course, part of my job as a parent is to downsize those radical impulses--no, the minister doesn't want a drink from your cup; no, the stranger can't come home with us for lunch; no, the entire playgroup can't spend the night; no, I guess you don't have to share the couch with me today; and, one from actual experience, no we don't need to give that man (who is yelling at no one while waiting at the bus stop--"Mom, what is he doing? Why is he yelling?") a ride. I read recently, I think in the NYTimes during the whole codependent camps brouhaha, that it used to be the parent's job to introduce the child to the world, now it is our job to protect the child from the world. Sad state, I supposed, but really nothing new. Perhaps, as the authors maintain, that is why radical hospitality is so important.