The coffee shop moved into town about two years after my return to the place where my childhood lay. In a small place where more shops were closed than open, it seemed an odd choice. Didn't the big-name palaces of the brew look for larger cities or busy suburbs to offer their wares?

All my years in this place, I watched the people push businesses away by buying at cheaper, bigger places than our town offered.

More out of curiosity than a need for expensive coffee, I pushed through the double-glass doors to a pleasant experience of delicious aromas, and handmade coffee tables coupled with comfortable sofas. In another section cozy tables and straight-backed chairs offered neighbors or lovers a chance to talk privately.

Then there was the owner, Gina, and her staff. Family, friends and college kids smiled, chatted and handed out creamy cups with signature hearts formed on the creamy tops. It seemed they knew everyone who came through the door, though open only a short time.

"A mocha latte," I ordered. Frankly, it was the only thing I ever ordered from such shops. Even with the taste of chocolate interlaced with coffee, usually a harsh, burned taste remained long after the drink was gone. What a pleasant surprise to discover the brew from this shop handed out flavor without ill aftertastes. That led to trying other flavors. None disappointed.

Food was scarce, although occasionally chicken salad on croissants, breakfast muffins or a salad might be offered. Eventually it dropped to the muffins or rolls.

The Cornerstone Coffee Shop grew in popularity as clubs held meetings in the back room, or reading groups gathered on the sofas to read aloud or discuss the book of the month. Seniors found a friendly welcome and soon met every morning to drink coffee, talk about their days or politics or the latest gossip before returning to their homes.

I watched in amazement as the shop became a staple of the town, anchoring itself as a necessity to the people instead of a shiny bauble soon forgotten. Messages appeared on cups of regulars, bringing smiles, giggles and grins, as Gina grew more familiar with her clientele.

Still, I was never a regular, usually having my coffee at home or the Senior Center located around a corner or two from Cornerstone. Generally, I filled my time with caring for family members or writing experiences on dating services for a blog I helped manage. The first rule of meeting anyone from online dating not to meet at your home, but a nearby, familiar place. The coffee shop became the place to decide whether there would be a second date. Soon I counted on Gina's opinion of my dates, as much as my own. Since we generally agreed, all went well.

For the next six years, I brought dates, came to read some of my own writings to Gina's willing ears, or just relax with her or other friends. During those years, I lost my brother to kidney failure. Three years later my daughter succumbed to a heart attack after fighting double viral pneumonia for eight long weeks. Unable to bear living in my home after such losses, I moved to Sarasota, Florida to a small and far too expensive apartment.

With the help of my neighbors who proved to be friendly and helpful, I managed to settle down and lick my wounds. Something was missing in the new home - my friends in my last town and the friendly faces at the Cornerstone Coffee Shop. I planned to visit my sister and her husband before going on to Pennsylvania for Christmas with my son and daughter-in-law.

Gina and everyone else welcomed me with hugs and smiles, each asking if I would move back one day. Initially, I planned to move near my son. However, with the news that he and his wife might move further South one day, I decided going back to Eclectic, Smalltown USA was my future. Once more I will be gathering with those people I love at the coffee shop. Maybe my traveling days are over. Maybe family and friends will sooth the pain in my heart as running away failed to do.