In the 1950's, up Main Street from my grandparents' house was a shoe repair shop. It was a tiny building with a coal heater. The retired men would gather there in winter and talk about the latest news or tales of days gone by.
Grandmother would send me up to the shoe shop to fetch Grandpa when she had dinner ready. "Dinner-time" was exactly noon every single day, but Grandpa needed a reminder to tear himself away from the lively talk at the shoe shop.
I remember how the wooden floor would creak under my feet, the smells of leather and shoe polish, the warmth of the fire, the row of shoes lined up on the shelf, and the row of men crowded onto a wooden bench.
Looking back, I am amazed at how the owner welcomed so many guests as he was busy working. He didn't just fix an old pair of shoes; he would clean and shine them and until they looked like new. He greeted young and old as if they were his most important customer.
I am so thankful that in our Heavenly Father's eyes, all are welcome and He treats each of us is His favorite
