All are welcome

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A few years ago, I went to a coffee morning in the village where I’d recently moved.

I wasn’t sure what to expect – I didn’t know a soul.

I was wearing my headscarf, as I typically do. As I sat down opposite a rather elderly gentleman, let’s call him John, he looked at me, and turned to the equally elderly woman sitting next to him.

John said: ‘We don’t mind that thing on your head, do we, Joan?’, whilst making a vague gesture around his head with one hand. ‘Oh no,’ Joan said warmly. ‘We don’t mind at all.’

I remember thinking it was both rather sweet and slightly odd. Until that moment, I hadn’t realised my scarf was awaiting approval from the village coffee-morning group. I’m sure they meant it kindly. I understood what they were trying to tell me: You’re welcome here. And I was.

I’ve been thinking about that incident because it’s National Inclusion Week. And one of the messages this year is: ‘Inclusion requires action.’

In the Qur’an, the book Muslims turn to for guidance, God says He made human beings into different peoples and tribes ‘so that you may know one another.’ I love that phrase. Because knowing someone means more than merely tolerating one another. More than politely putting up with one another’s differences. And more than letting someone know you’re happy enough for them to be there.

I think truly knowing one another means looking beyond the things people often notice first – whether that’s a scarf, an accent, or age. It means understanding the person themselves, appreciating their individuality. Perhaps that’s where the action comes in. Because getting to know someone takes a little effort. It takes time, too. A willingness to sit together, to listen, and to talk.

I kept going back. I got to know people. And they got to know me. Somewhere along the way, something changed.

I still turn up wearing that ‘thing on my head’, as John would call it.

But these days, the same village coffee morning keeps a packet of my favourite kind of tea in the cupboard. And I’m greeted with the wonderfully welcoming words: ‘Would you like a cup of tea? The kettle is on.’

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