The Shoes

[Guest guest]

>----- My alarm went off -- it was Sunday again;

>I was tired -- it was my one day to sleep in.

>But the guilt I'd have felt the rest of the day

>Would have been too much, so I'd go; I'd pray.

>

>I showered and shaved, adjusted suit and tie, got there and swung into

>a pew just in time.

>

>Bowing my head in humble prayer

>Before I closed my eyes,

>I saw that the shoe of the man next to me

>Was touching my own and I sighed.

>

>With plenty of room on either side, I thought, " why do our soles have

>to touch? "

>It bothered me so; he was glued to my shoe,

>But it didn't seem to bother him much.

>

>Then the prayer began: " Heavenly Father, "

>someone said--But I thought, " Does this man with the shoes have no

>pride? "

>They were dusty, worn, scratched end to end. What's worse, there were

>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 ended and songs of praise began.

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

>He lifted the rafters; his hands raised high;

>The Lord surely heard his voice from the sky.

>

>Then the offering was passed; what I threw in was steep.

>The shoe man reached into his pockets, so deep,

>

>And I tried to see what he pulled out to put in,

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

>

>The sermon bored me to tears--And no lie--

>It was the same for the shoe man,

>For tears fell from his eyes.

>

>At the end of the service, as is custom here,

>We must greet the visitors and show them good cheer.

>But I was moved inside to want to meet this man,

>So after the closing, I shook his hand.

>

>He was old, his skin dark, his hair a mess.

>I thanked him for coming, for being our guest,

>He said, " My name's Charlie, glad to meet you, my friend, "

>And there were tears in his eyes--but he had a wide grin.

>

> " Let me explain, " he said, wiping his eyes.

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

>I know I don't look like all the rest,

>But I always try to look my best. "

> " I polish my shoes before my long walk,

>But by the time I get here they're as dirty as chalk. "

>

>My heart fell to my knees, but I held back my tears,

>He continued, " And I must apologize for sitting so near. "

> " But I know when I get here, I must look a sight.

>

>And I thought . . if I touched you, our souls might unite. "

>

>I was silent for a moment knowing anything I said would pale in

>comparison, so I spoke from my

>heart not my head.

>

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

>That the best of a man is what's in his heart. "

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

>How thankful I am that he 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.

>

>Send this to all your friends, no matter how often you talk, or how

>close you are, and send it to the person who sent it to you. Let old

>friends know you haven't forgotten them, and tell new friends you

>never will.

>

>

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