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,
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
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 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.
Let old friends know you haven't forgotten
them,
and tell new friends you never will.
Remember, everyone needs a friend, someday
you
might feel like you have no friends at all.

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