Written by Ashley Luke
After a long afternoon of classes and studying, I sat in Mauck Residence, finishing a paper. It was grueling but exciting work. Thoughts of Homer, Greek, and Turabian style floated around in my mind. Amidst those hovered a deep cloud of weariness. There is something about working so long with such a heavy load, beautiful and rewarding as it is, that brings a deep weariness to the soul and mind. As I scribbled down a sentence, my writing was interrupted by 15 or so ladies and gentlemen entering Mauck’s lobby with pots of soup, fruit, chairs, and other dinnertime accoutrements. How lovely, I thought. It was a wonderful time for a spring dinner party.
Mauck has a lobby and solarium filled with cozy couches, a piano, and large, bright windows. It is frequently used for campus events, dinner parties and game nights, so I was not surprised to see a small crowd of gaily dressed students parading through the doors. I couldn’t help but listen as they set the table in the solarium, brought flowers to adorn it, and arranged the food. I listened to their happy babble and my soul ached a little. How peaceful their company felt. Soon, their chatter died down and I heard them praying. The dinner had begun and it was high time for me to return to work.
But then, as I sat, bent over my writing, I heard footsteps. One of the members approached me. He gently asked if I would like to join their meal, as they had extra seats. “We would love for you to join us,” he said. “Come in and introduce yourself; there is plenty to go around.” I was astonished.
Sometimes, as a freshman, I tend to think that people don’t realize that I exist, but here was someone acknowledging my presence and inviting me in. I asked him what the event was for. He told me that the group was part of the Wendell Berry class that Assistant Professor of English Dr. Christina Lambert teaches, and the dinner was their final exam. Again, I gawked. Not only is Berry one of my favorite authors, but Dr. Lambert is renowned on campus, and I jumped at the opportunity to meet her. I thanked him and said I would love to join.
I was nervous walking into a room full of students I didn’t know. But I kept reminding myself of the kindness and hospitality the group had displayed. If I was invited to join them, I belonged, no matter my year or connection. So I walked in.
The room was elegantly decorated with pictures of Berry and his dog. The table had pages of books scattered around bottles of sparkling water and vases of lilies. Three kettles of homemade soup sat on one table while fruit, fresh bread, and desserts sat on another.
The senior who invited me smiled warmly when he saw me come in. “Please, have some soup,” he said, introducing me to the circle he was sitting with.
I quickly became acquainted with them and began discussing Wendell Berry’s books and style. The conversation flowed along, some people giving impressions of their favorite authors, others reciting anecdotes about professors, still others detailing their future plans after college. My bowl of pumpkin soup and I were whisked along with them, playfully included in all their ramblings. Constantly and kindly, I was brought into the tapestry of the night as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have a random student at the end of the table.
The members introduced me to Dr. Lambert who didn’t bat an eye meeting me. Through the course of the night, I came to realize the culture of this dinner was a combination of the lovely people around the table and the ideals of Wendell Berry himself. I asked the group why they had a dinner for a final instead of a test and they responded by simply saying that that was what he would have preferred. Wendell would have invited the stranger in, and he would have gloried over a bowl of warm soup accompanied by hearty conversation. Over an hour-and-a-half later, I returned to my work amidst a chorus of goodbyes and thank yous. My weariness was officially cured, and I felt ready to conquer my studies again.
This simple little event is a perfect example of Hillsdale’s beautiful hospitality culture. No matter who you are, student or prospective, freshman or senior, you are welcome. Girls in dorms will give you fresh cookies, people will invite others they don’t know to sit with them at circle tables in the dining hall, and a class will invite a girl, studying alone, to crash their final exam in the name of community, kindness, and hospitality.
Hillsdale students simply exude this kind of grace, partly because they all know the feeling of the toil and weariness that can come with a heavy workload. It is something that I love so much about being here. Now, because it has been modeled to me, when I am out and about, in the dining hall or three years down the road when I too attend Dr. Lambert’s Wendell Berry class final exam dinner, I can share the joy and peace I have come to know with those around me.
Ashley Luke, ’28, plans to study humanities with a special interest in languages and writing. In her spare time, she loves tending to her sourdough starter, perusing art museums, and reading poetry.
Published in May 2025
