IT was the last leg of my flight home from a speaking tour in the United States a few years ago. I was still lingering in the graces of Divine Mercy Sunday as I arrived at the Denver airport. I had some time to spare before my final flight, and so I walked around the concourse for awhile.
I noticed a shoe shine station along the wall. I looked down at my fading black footwear and thought to myself, “Nah, I’ll do it myself when I get home.” But when I returned past the shoe-shiners several minutes later, something inside was prodding me to go have my shoes done. And so, I finally stopped after passing them for a third time, and mounted one of the chairs.