A Fat Chair at the Louisville Starbucks

A fat, wide chair lolled in the corner of the airport Starbucks area, three or four places over from where I sat in my armless, upholstered seat, facing a glass wall where plane departures and arrivals were clearly visible. The noted chair was of a striking color, a hue concocted, I believe, of deep aqua, midnight blue–maybe teal and seawater. When I first arrived at this area, someone was sitting in the chair, and it didn’t strike my attention, but a while later when I looked at the now empty chair, its beauty arrested me. Perhaps the material was mohair or velvet or a mix, and the sun now slanted light beams across one side of the back and down the ample arms. I gazed at that beautiful chair, and marvelled that its home was the Louisville, Kentucky airport.

“Hey, Shirley.” Nancy Grandquist, one of the speakers of the national ladies conference, hailed me as she stood at the counter and waited for her coffee. Drink in hand, she walked to where I sat, turned around a chair and pulled up a small table. She took a swallow of her brew, then set down the cup, and her large green eyes widened as she said, “Look at that chair. Is that not the most gorgeous thing?”

Beauty…and skill…and art…God’s gifts to us.