Painting "Shoes for Mother" © 2004 by Martyca

Only A Man . . .

At first glance she looked like any other old woman. Plodding along in the snow, alone, neglected, head bowed. People passing on the busy city sidewalk averted their eyes, lest she remind them that pain and suffering did not stop to celebrate Christmas.

A young couple, smiling, talking, laughing, arms loaded with Christmas presents, took no notice of the old woman.

A mother with two small children hurried by, on their way to grandmother's house. They took no notice.

A minister walked by proudly carrying his Bible in his right hand, like a well armed Christian soldier. But his mind was stayed on heavenly things, and he took no notice.

If these people had noticed, they would have seen that the old woman wore no shoes. She walked barefoot in the ice and snow.

With both hands the old woman gathered her worn button-less overcoat at the collar to keep out the wind. She stopped and stood bent and bowed at the bus stop. A red and blue scarf covering her head, she waited for the downtown bus.

A gentleman carrying an important looking briefcase waited near her, not too closely. After all, she could have something contagious.

A teen-age girl also waited for the bus. She glanced repeatedly at the old woman's feet, but said nothing.

The bus arrived and the old woman slowly, painfully boarded. She sat on the side-ways seat just behind the driver. The gentleman and the teen-age girl hurried to the rear. The man sharing the seat with the old woman shuffled uneasily and twirled his thumbs. "Senile," he thought.

The bus driver saw her bare feet and thought; "This neighborhood is sinking deeper and deeper into poverty, I hate to see it, I'll be glad when they put me on the College Park route."

A little boy pointed at the old woman.

"Look, Mother, that old lady is barefoot."

The embarrassed mother slapped his hand down. "Don't point at people, Andrew. It's not polite to point." She looked out the window.

"She must have grown children," a lady in a fur coat suggested. "Her children should be ashamed of themselves." She felt morally superior, because she took good care of her mother.

A teacher seated near the middle of the bus steadied the bag of gifts on her lap. "Don't we pay enough taxes to handle situations like this?" she said to a friend seated beside her. "It's this tax-cut crazy Republican administration, her friend replied. "They rob the poor and give to the rich." "No, its the Democrats," a gray- haired man behind them interjected. "These Democrat welfare programs just make people lazy and keep them in poverty."

"People have to learn to save their money," a well-dressed young college man added. "If that old woman had saved when she was young, she wouldn't be suffering now. It's her own fault."

And all these people beamed with satisfaction that their acumen had delivered such trenchant analysis.

But, a kind businessman felt offended by this murmuring detachment of his fellow citizens. He reached into his wallet and took out a crisp twenty-dollar bill. He strode proudly down the isle and pressed the bill into the old woman's unsteady, wrinkled hand. "Here, Madam, get yourself some shoes."

The old woman nodded her head in thanks. The businessman strode back to his seat, feeling pleased with himself, that he was a man of action.

A well-dressed Christian lady had noticed all of this. She began to pray silently. "Lord, I don't have money. There is no way I can help. But Lord, I can turn to you in every need. Lord, I know that you are a loving God. You make a way out of no way. Now Lord, let your blessing shine on this old woman. Let shoes fall like manna from heaven, so that this old woman can have shoes for Christmas." And the Christian lady felt supremely spiritual.

At the next stop, a young man boarded the bus. He wore a heavy blue jacket, a maroon scarf around his neck, and a gray woolen cap pulled down over is ears. A wire running under the cap and into his ear was connected to a Walkman. The young man jiggled his body in time to music only he heard. He paid his fare and plopped down on the sideways seat directly across from the old woman.

As the young man's glance caught the old woman's bare feet, His jiggling stopped. He froze. His eyes went from her feet to his. He wore his expensive, new, brand name sneakers. For months he had saved from his minimum wage pay to buy these sneakers. Everybody in the gang would think he was "so cool."

The young man bent down and began to untie his sneakers. He removed his impressive new sneakers. He removed his socks. He knelt down before the old woman.

"Mother," he said, "I see you have no shoes. Well, I have shoes."

Carefully, gently, he lifted the old woman's crusty feet in his hands. He placed his socks and his fine sneakers on the old woman's feet. The old woman nodded in thanks.

Just then the bus arrived at the nest stop. The young man left the bus and walked away, barefoot in the snow.

The passengers crowded at the windows to watch him as he plodded barefoot through the snow.

"Who is he?" one asked.
"He must be a prophet," said another.
"He must be a saint," someone suggested.
"He must be an angel," said yet another.
"Look! There's a halo around his head," somebody shouted.
"He must be the Son of God," said the Christian lady.

But the little boy who had pointed, said, "No Mother, I saw him clearly, He was only a man."

~ © 2000~2010 David Griffith ~

If you enjoyed reading this inspirational page please click on the bar below to share it with your friends!

E-Mail This Page Link
Enter recipient's e-mail:

     

Mail To The PalletMaster           Mail To The Artist

NEXT      BACK      HOME

                           

© 2001~2010 Dave ~ The PalletMaster

"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."

Background, Text & Graphics © by PalletMaster's Workshop®.

Lex et Libertas -- Semper Fidelis!