His Shoes In Church Are Touching Mine, Why?
I showered and shaved, and I adjusted my tie. I got there and sat In a pew just in time. I lowered my head in prayer as I closed my eyes. I saw the man’s shoe 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 in 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 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 had 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…F or 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, his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess, but I thanked him for coming and for being our guest. He said, ‘My name’s Charlie; I’m glad to meet you, my friend.’
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 always to 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 would never know.
It’s just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul. Live each day as your last, for we never know our time here on earth.
Love and Peace, my friends, and remember that it is not how we look on the outside but how we look within.
Author Unknown