The date was Dec. 23, 1996, our last official day spent in the small southern town of Selcuk, Turkey.

My mom and I had gone there seeking the ruins of Ephesus and the Apostle Paul. While that sight was great to see, the experience there became something more meaningful to me.

On this last day, sisters Hulya and Juksel from the family-owned hotel we were staying at asked if we wanted to go for a walk. We followed them, along with other family members. The road led down past the Crusade Castle, the church of St. John, and farther along past an older mosque built in the 14th century.

Along a dirt road, between fragrant olive, orange and lemon trees, the family stopped. They knelt down. We watched intently. It became apparent they were picking a certain leafy weed that grew abundantly. Hulya showed us how to pick just the young and tender leaves. After we filled a plastic bag that Juksel carried, we headed back to the hotel.

In guide books it mentioned that if one were ever so fortunate to be invited to sit in with a Turkish family at a meal, then it is an honor. And so they invited us and we accepted.

Here is where the Turkish excel at spending less.

We helped the family cook supper.Very little was spent on the meal itself, which was to feed ten of us!

The roadside weeds were made into a tasty stew, mother Phyllis made homemade bread and hummus, the sisters made homemade yogurt, Ali the brother came in with a large burlap sack filled with wild mushrooms from the forest, and the father brought apples, oranges, bananas and cucumbers all grown in the family garden. The result was a four-course meal that was utterly simple, yet tasty and nourishing.

After that, the family showed us to the living room for Turkish entertaining. Again, without spending a dime, they brought out a boom-box and played traditional Turkish dance music. Everyone in the room danced and sang along to the joyous songs. Even some neighbors came by and joined in the festivities.

When it came time for us to pack our things and go back to Istanbul for Christmas, our host Hulya came to see us. We thanked her family for such a good time and generous hospitality. She said with a smile on her face that her family wanted to have a celebration for us because they were aware it was almost Christmas.

Then her expression became serious and she said, “We are Muslim. You are Christian, yes? We do not let that stand in our way. This time has made our families become good friends and that is all that is important between people.”

A warm hug followed.

This was the best gift I received that year. The gift of sharing, this family’s generosity, understanding between cultures and faiths and, most importantly, how to live simply and spend less!

Sunny Castellano lives in Lisbon and shared this story with her fellow congregrants at the High Street Congregational Church in Auburn.