The Nigerian Gift
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.
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