The last bit added on just so all would know that this is not a blog about different types of shoes, nor about acquiring, wearing or otherwise worshipping shoes.
At my age it’s all about the comfort, but I was very pleased the other day to have finally found a pair of walking shoes that are actually more feminine than my usual black or white. These have roses printed on them, making me cheerier just by putting them on.
No, it is about the famous Indian saying that teaches empathy for another:
“Never criticize a man until you've walked a mile in his moccasins.” Or sometimes “Great Spirit, help me never to judge another until I have walked in his moccasins.”
Whatever the case may be, we would all do well to keep this saying foremost in our minds as none can know the path another walks: some complain so one can rather guess; others recount in great detail their current trials or health problems (and we all promised when we were younger to never follow in our mother’s, father’s, aunt’s or uncle’s way of talking only about health problems, yet we find ourselves now doing so –ah age is a great help in becoming “normal”); yet there are many who silently carry their burdens, who cheerfully face disaster, who calmly deal with tragedy – all without a word to indicate the trials that they are enduring.
But I actually digress – what brought this on was a trip to the storage space above the garage (looking for the screws, nuts and bolts belonging to the bed frame that younger son has transferred to his new flat) – didn’t find a trace of anything that could be use for the bed frame, but did come across a wonderful wooden mold that same son had done as an art project at some point – of his shoe.
If I tried to walk even a few steps in either of my son’s shoes, first of all they would fall off, secondly I would probably trip and sprain and ankle and thirdly I would get nowhere so guess I will have to exercise philosophical “walking in their shoes” instead of a true physical try.
|the wooden "mold"|
|my foot in his footstep!|