Skip to main content

The Shoe Man

 



My alarm went off, it was Sunday again.

I was sleepy and tired, my one day to sleep in.

But the guilt I would feel, the rest of the day

Would have been too much so I'd go and I'd pray.


I showered and shaved, I adjusted my tie.

I got there and sat in a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer as I closed my eyes.

I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own. I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side, I thought, "Why must our soles touch?"

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine but it didn't bother him much.


A prayer began: "Our Father"...


I thought, "This man with the shoes has no pride.

They're dusty, worn, and scratched, even worse, there are holes on the side!"


"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on.


The shoe man said a quiet "Amen."

I tried to focus on the prayer but my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best when walking through that door?

"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought, glancing toward the floor.


Then the prayer was ended and the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud, sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters, his hands were raised high.

The Lord could surely hear the shoe man's voice from the sky.


It was time for the offering and what I threw in was steep.

I watched as the shoe man reached into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out, what the shoe man put in.

Then I heard a soft "clink" as when silver hits tin.


The sermon really bored me to tears, and that's no lie

It was the same for the shoe man for tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service as is the custom here

We must greet new visitors and show them all good cheer.


But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet the shoe man

So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark and his hair was truly a mess

But I thanked him for coming for being our guest.


He said, "My names' Charlie. I'm glad to meet you, my friend."

There were tears in his eyes but he had a large, wide grin

"Let me explain," he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"I've been coming here for months and you're the first to say 'Hi.'"


"I know that my appearance is not like all the rest

"But I really do try to always look my best.

"I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk.

"But by the time I get here they're dirty and dusty, like chalk."


My heart filled with pain and I swallowed to hide my tears

As he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near.

He said, "When I get here I know I must look a sight.

"But I thought if I could touch you then maybe our souls might unite."


I was silent for a moment knowing whatever was said

Would pale in comparison, I spoke from my heart, not my head.


"Oh, you've touched me," I said, "And taught me, in part;

"That the best of any man is what is found in his heart."


The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know.

Like just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.


-Author Unknown

Popular posts from this blog

  Within Those Eyes You have wonderful eyes. Not the type which drowns me in, But the type which makes me feel a little more alive. The ones which look cold; But deep inside, give warmth. They were beautiful. They made me feel beautiful. But beneath those eyes, I could see emotions, Or the things which you never told. Some fears, some regrets. The silence narrated stories, With the soft roaring waves. It held some secrets, some lies. Something that was imperfectly perfect. I found a something in your nothing. Something I needed to hold on. Some fears, some tears, And some illusion.

Untitled

  The man was good. He was kind. He was jolly. He's not wealthy, but he's satisfied. Hopeful. Composed. Inspired. He was once glorious and graceful, but those attributes just vanished as if a coin fell in the middle of a river. It was covered with water, clouded with sand, sunken deep. He's not born stained, this world made him one. This world of doubt, hatred, mischief, self-centeredness, greed, envy, violence, and never ending disease. This dark unfair world. This world where the bad rejoices, the good suffers. He used to be happy, but not anymore. He used to be motivated, but he's sluggish now. He used to be smart, but now he's confused. He used to inspire people, now  he don't care at all. He used to believe, to hope, to love. He used to do all these things - but everything has changed. A normal happy life is what he longs for, but it seems that sorrow and pain are the norm of this generation. Tired and all out of faith, cold, broken - these are just underst...

Dare To Be

When a new day begins, Dare to smile gratefully. When there is darkness, Dare to be the first to shine a light. When there is injustice, Dare to be the first to condemn it. When something seems difficult, Dare to do it anyway. When life seems to beat you down, Dare to fight back. When there seems to be no hope, Dare to find some. When you're feeling tired, Dare to keep going. When times are tough, Dare to be tougher. When love hurts you, Dare to love again. When someone is hurting, Dare to help them heal. When another is lost, Dare to help them find the way. When a friend falls, Dare to be the first to extend a hand. When you cross paths with another, Dare to make them smile. When you feel great, Dare to help someone else feel great too. When the day has ended, Dare to feel as you've done your best. Dare to be the best you can - At all times, dare to be! Poem By Steve Maraboli