And, the play, of course, was based on his great story: how the great guest came. And, do you remember it?
A cobbler: a lowly shoe cobbler by the name of Conrad. A night before Christmas, he dreams in a vivid dream that Jesus is coming to his shop on Christmas Day. Next day, the Lord Jesus is coming to visit him in his cobbler shop.
So, early in the morning, he arises and he goes to the woods and he brings in boughs and he decorates his shop for his illustrious guest. Then, he prepares a beautiful dinner. And, today—Christmas day, Jesus is coming to visit him in his shop. So, after he arranges his shop in beautiful order—and we had it up here on the front of this auditorium—and, after he had prepared the dinner—and, we had it spread here at the front of the auditorium—the shoe cobbler is waiting for his illustrious guest. Jesus is coming today.
While he is waiting, an old man walks by and he stops at the shoe cobbler’s store. And, the old man is shivering in the cold. And, his shoes are in tatters and in pieces. And, the cobbler invites the old man out of the cold.
And, he visits with him. And, seeing his shoes and his feet, almost bare, he gives to the old man a pair of shoes that he has made and sends him on his way, with his heart filled with love and gratitude.
But, he’s still waiting for his guest. And, while he waits for his illustrious guest, who appeared to him the night before, saying, “Tomorrow, I’ll visit you in your shop,” there passes by an old woman, bending under a heavy weight of fagots. And, tired and weary, the cobbler invites her in out of the cold. And, as she sits there, he gives her some of the food he has prepared for his illustrious guest. And, after she has warmed and after she has eaten, she goes on her way, glad and rejoicing.
But, the old cobbler couldn’t understand. And, the poem continues:
He lived all the moments over and over
When the Lord
Should enter the lowly door.
The knock, the call,
The latch pulled up.
The lighted face,
The offered cup.
He would wash the feet
Where the spikes had been.
He would kiss the hands
Where the nails went in.
And then at the last,
He would sit with him.
And break the bread
As the day grew dim.
But instead, as the day wore away,
No guest came.
And in the evening,
a little child was on the sidewalk
Outside his door crying.
He carefully asked the child,
The little thing was lost.
It had somehow wandered
Away from father and mother.
And asking the child exactly
Where the little thing lived.
It was on the other side of town.
He dared not leave his shop
For the day was wasting away.
And if he left,
His great guest might come
And he’d be gone.
But the little child was crying.
So he decided to take
The little thing on the other side of town.
And when he did,
And placed the child
In the arms of its father and mother,
They rewarded him
With tears of joy and gratitude.
Then he hastened back
To his little shop.
And the afternoon grew into twilight
And the twilight grew into the night.
Where was his guest?
Then he asked:
Why is it, Lord,
That Your feet delay?
Did You forget that
This was the day?
Then came the heavenly word,
Then soft in the silence
A voice he heard.
“Lift up your heart,
For I kept My word.
Three times I came
To your friendly door.
Three times my shadow
Was on your floor.
I was the beggar
With bruised feet.
I was the woman
You gave to eat.
I was the child
On the homeless street.
He came to the cobbler’s shop.
