"You hug that grandbaby now," the grandmotherly waitress called after us as Jerry and I opened the door to leave the Shelbi Street Cafe in Indianapolis recently. 

When we'd entered, the restaurant was nearly empty but for a group of five at a burnished stainless steel table. The host who led us to our booth upholstered in soft purples and greens commented on Jerry's lack of coat in the cold weather.

"Oh, we've just come from across the street. The fellow at the paper store recommended you."

The smiling waitress (who didn't announce her name) brought our water and took our order of sandwiches and a cup of soup for Jerry. When she brought the soup, along with warm bread, she placed a smaller cup of the velvet chicken soup in front of me. "Here's a taste for you, too."

"My, how sweet." I looked at Jerry after she left. "When has that ever happened?

"It's really good, too. They're not just trying to get rid of it!"

When we told her we were flying out that afternoon to see our 6 month old grandboy and asked about the weather, she said she thought the predicted freezing rain wasn't going to hit until after rush hour. Later she came back to fill our water glasses. "What time was your flight?"

"5:00."

She disappeared behind the counter then, off to our right. "I wonder why she asked the time." I raised my eyebrows. Jerry shrugged his shoulders, absorbed in the grilled portobello and philly steak sandwiches we were sharing.

Soon she returned. "The manager checked the computer. The storm shouldn't hit until 8:00." She smiled at us as she cleared our bread plate.

"Thanks!" I stared after her, on the edge of tears. We were two in a thousand people she would serve that month. Free soup and personalized weather. Such kindness to strangers.

She was rinsing glasses behind the counter when we passed her on the way out. "The food was delicious and you treated us like family." Shaking my head, I smiled at her, again feeling the tears behind my eyelids.

"Oh, well…

After her warm good-bye, we walked down the icy sidewalk to our car. I thought, when the Kingdom comes, kindness will be our everyday experience. Every encounter will be joy. Every interaction, a means of grace. Just like this taste of the Kingdom at the Shelbi Street Cafe.