Old Shoes

Old Shoes1

There once was a man with a grey beard and tattered clothes.  He had calloused hands and was drenched in dirt and sweat from head to toe.  People would stare at him with pity, but all he wanted was a bit of hope.  He brought his shoes out for a walk and brought them to a soup kitchen downtown.  Once he finished his rations he would travel on his way. He walked wherever his old shoes would take him.  The same old shoes he wore when he found out his wife and child were killed in a car accident.  The same old shoes he wore when he lost his job in the old Inco mine. The same old shoes he wore when he opened the whisky bottle and drank away his pain.  Bills were left unpaid and laundry left unwashed.  His car was impounded and his house taken away.  He found himself living in the streets where he learned to live life the hard way, begging for money and scrounging for food, weathering rain or shine.  2

Until one day, the old man sat on a corner holding out his shaking hands, his old shoes crying out for protection.  A rolled up bill dropped into his palm.  As he scurried to find forgotten words, a smile crept across his face.  His fancy shoes smiled up at him as he flew down the crowded street.  He ran past a beer store, even past a bank, he ran past a mother and her unborn child.  He ran into the park and sat on a bench where he lowered his head into his hands and sobbed loudly.  Feeling sorry for the life he led, and all he let drift away.  Hope cried to him and tried to pull him towards its grasp.  As the sun began to set, a gloomy night enveloped the day.  The old man made his bed of newspaper and leaves underneath a weeping willow.  Lights flickered on and the winding paths became quiet and shadowed.  Once again, he would feel the cold night etch itself upon his bare skin.  He sobbed himself to sleep and dreamt of better days.  He dreamt of his wife and daughter and how much they used to look up to him.  He dreamt of starting over and trying something new.  He dreamt of leaving behind his new life and his old and tattered shoes.  He awoke with a sudden start and hopes to change his ways.  He walked down the road and into a great big building, with BANK written on the front.  He handed the teller behind the window his bill with a smile upon his face, he gave her his name like his life had become a race.  She found his file and deposited his money, with a look of shock.  She called back his balance, “nine hundred dollars.”  His smiled widened and he went on his way.  He found his way to another building where he signed his name; he had enough money to rent out a house.  3

Two months later he had a home.  He found a job with little pay, but he hopes to find a better one someday.  As he sat at home he thought of buying a new pair of fancy shoes.  He decided to kiss his old shoes goodbye. He left his apartment and walked towards the park, holding a box beneath his arm.  The old man placed the lifeless shoes upon the bench and slowly walked away.  Now the shoes sit silently upon the bench waiting for a lonely and homeless soul to bring them to life again.  4

      5