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.
The 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 greet new visitors
and show them all good cheer.
And, 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 name’s 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 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 how thankful I really am
that his dirty old shoe touched
my soul.
- Author Unknown
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Do not withhold good from those who deserve it when it’s in your power to help them. Proverbs 3:27 NLT
Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Philippians 2:4 ESV
Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.” Romans 12:13 NIV
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If you liked this story and would like a copy of either of my books,
they are available on Amazon in both paperback and Kindle format:
If you have a story or testimony that you think might bless others,
I invite you to send it by email to me (Kenneth Kersey) at godsotherways@me.com.
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