July 4, 2015
A Pair of Shoes
Several years ago, I was getting ready for the christening of one of my goddaughters. I was almost ready when I realized I didn’t have nice shoes that would match my nice dress. I felt sorry for myself. If only I had a lot of money I could buy several pairs of shoes to match every dress I wear. But since I hadn’t, my only pair of sensible and old shoes will do.
Then I went out of the house to wait for a tricycle out of the barrio. As I was at the waiting shed, I caught sight of a trio of dirty and big-eyed children walking with, presumably, their mother towards me. I recognized her as one of those who lived in a compound somewhere in the interior of the barrio. All the kids had hollow cheeks. They were skinny and dressed in oversized old shirts and they were, all of them, barefooted.
Knowing how hot and rough the pebbles on the street were, I, impulsively, asked the mother..
“Why are they barefooted?”
“They don’t have any slippers..”
And that was that.
I looked at my old shoes and realized how ungrateful I was a while ago.