Shoes On My Feet

In 1978 I lived four miles from the campus where I attended college and while I always had a ride to school, I walked or hitchhiked home after classes. One day I was walking and about a mile into my hour long trek, head down, lurching forward and feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t have a car, a piece of personal property regarded as a necessity here in Texas and not a luxury.

Suddenly an old saying appeared in my mind. “I felt sorry for myself because I didn’t have any shoes, until I saw a man who didn’t have any feet.” I looked down. I looked down at my healthy two feet. I had good walking shoes on them, and clean dry socks. I looked up. It was a bright sunny day, the opposite of the rain I had for company earlier in the week. With a slight breeze the temperature was perfect for walking along in the sun wearing the short sleeve shirt on my back.

I couldn’t help but smile at my good fortune. Many a time since that day almost thirty years ago I have remembered the feeling of sunshine on my face and regardless of how much anguish I wanted to apply to my circumstances at that time, I’ve been encouraged to smile.