The Shoes
>
> 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
> So I'd go and I'd pray. >
> 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 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...
>
> You might be best friends one year,
> pretty good friends the next year,
> don't talk that often the next year,
> don't want to talk at all the year after that.
>
> So, I just wanted to say,
> even if I never talk to you again in my life,
> you are special to me and
> you have made a difference in my life.
>
> I respect you, and truly cherish you.
>
My best friend passed this on to me and I wanted to share it with all of you. Every single one of you (even the trolls) have made a difference in my life this past year, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate each and every one of you.
Love,
Nina