Taking Marmite with you on holiday

Recently I heard about someone who insisted on taking a jar of Marmite with her  whenever she goes on holiday abroad, because you can't guarantee to get it anywhere outside the UK. (For non UK readers of this blog, let me explain that Marmite is very salty flavoursome yeast extract spread; as is said " you love it or loathe it"!). Forward planning indeed!
I only mention this because of an incident in my hospital chapel Sunday service recently. The service is relatively informal, designed to accommodate the limitations of elderly people, tired and weary and sometimes confused and uncomfortable. Generally it is focussed around the celebration of holy communion, but trying to be as non-denominational as possible. Sometimes when it comes to the distribution of the communion some folk might say " no thanks, I'm Catholic". I might say "don't worry, it's available to anyone of whatever denomination or none".
 The lady was clearly enjoying the service, taking part, engaged, eye contact. When it came to the distribution of communion she said, "no thanks; I'm chapel, we don't do that". It was only when I returned to the altar to start clearing the vessels that I realised I felt quite sad: something akin to the way someone feels when he or she has prepared a meal and finicky guest says "I don't like that" it is something to do with hospitality being rejected, an offering not being acceptable.
There's a lot in this offering of hospitality: we place ourselves in the offering; to reject the offering is to reject the offering of the person who makes it; I think that is why the statement by Jesus, recorded by Luke (chp 10, v.7) is so poignant, "stay in the same house, taking what food and drink they have to offer". Accepting what someone gives is so important. At the end of the service the lady insisted we accept her coin offering. We don't take a collection during the service, but it was important to accept and tell her that it will be used for the flowers, as the chapel is the only place in hospital where flowers are allowed. It's strange how one seemingly insignificant encounter can open up a fountain of reflection and spiritual musing.