The shoes are grandfather\u2019s, and most unusual. When I first set foot in them I was twelve. I didn\u2019t know what they were. They had been handed down, I was told, through generations, and I should be honored to wear them. I wanted to ask Granddad why they were so special, but he wasn\u2019t around. He\u2019d passed away.<\/p>\n
The first time I wore them to school, I felt proud. The shoes were gold and shiny, and I felt ten feet tall. I felt like I could go anywhere with them. Go faster than anything. Like I could do anything. But the other kids made fun of me for wearing them. They said they were too out of date. They weren\u2019t cool enough. They weren\u2019t in style. They were weird and goofy, and nobody wore gold colored shoes.<\/p>\n
So I went home discouraged and told my mom about what happened.<\/p>\n
She said, \u201cSometimes people don\u2019t understand the value of a thing. They\u2019re looking at your shoes, and they see shoes that don\u2019t look like the ones they\u2019re used to. They see shoes, but what they don\u2019t see is where those shoes have been. Where they\u2019ve walked, what they\u2019ve tread on. They don\u2019t know anything about your shoes. So they don\u2019t know just how special they are.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next day I didn\u2019t wear the shoes. I put them in the closet behind the old stuffed bear I\u2019d had forever, that I didn\u2019t use or need anymore. I\u2019d grown out of it. I hadn\u2019t had grandad\u2019s shoes very long, but I felt like I\u2019d grown out of them too. I\u2019d keep them in the closet to remember him.<\/p>\n
When I got to school wearing my modern shoes, the other kids accepted them. They didn\u2019t pick on me and I fit in, but I didn\u2019t feel special. I didn\u2019t feel ten feet tall. I didn\u2019t feel like I could do anything in the world that I wanted to. To go anywhere that I wanted to go. I felt like I\u2019d be stuck in this town my whole life, and I\u2019d wear what everyone else wore, and I\u2019d do whatever anyone else told me to. And I didn\u2019t like it.<\/p>\n
So I went back to wearing grandad\u2019s shoes and the other kids picked on me. But I shut them out, and I wore them anyway. I went where I wanted to go, and did what I wanted to do, and I didn\u2019t let them tell me what I should be doing. I felt bad that I was alone and weird and strange, but I felt free.<\/p>\n
Years past, and I grew up into an adult. I met someone and I married. We had children and I knew love and tenderness. My love didn\u2019t like my shoes though. My love wanted me to get rid of the old tired things. I didn\u2019t want to stop wearing them, but I loved my lover. So I put them away into the closet once more.<\/p>\n
Without the shoes, I didn\u2019t walk right. I started to limp through the day. I didn\u2019t feel right. I didn\u2019t act right. It was like I was a different person. It didn\u2019t take long before my love noticed it too, but didn\u2019t say anything. Didn\u2019t say anything until all of the love had disappeared and nothing was left between us.<\/p>\n
After my love was gone, I limped back to the closet, and put back on those comfortable old shoes. Those shoes that had carried me so far before. The ones that my grandfather had worn and his grandfather before him, and on and on. I started to walk right again. The limp was gone after a while. I could walk for miles and miles, and I saw lots of places, and I met lots of people. I could help them now. I was back to my old self.<\/p>\n
I got a new job. I went to work with great ambition and energy, wearing my golden shoes. At first everyone was impressed with me, and I thought that I was going straight to the top. That my long years of struggling had finally paid off.<\/p>\n
There came a day when the people I worked for stopped looking at what I was doing and started checking out my shoes. They didn\u2019t like what they saw. Even though we were not in school anymore. They didn\u2019t like the way they shone in the sun, and made me walk. They thought that my shoes should be dull and normal, something that everyone else wore.<\/p>\n
My boss told me that I needed to perform, like the others in my team. That I was too busy thinking about high minded ideas and walking the wrong direction. That I needed to be less creative and work harder.<\/p>\n
I was tempted to take my shoes off once more and put them away, but I\u2019d learned from my previous mistakes and refused. Instead, I went my own way and became a success.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s been many years now. I have a grandson. I\u2019m old and grey and tired. I sit him down and hand him my shoes.<\/p>\n
I tell him, \u201cI\u2019ve learned something wonderful and true. The things that matter are not what others think. The things that matter are where you go and where you\u2019ve been\u2014what you do, and what you are. The shoes you wear are the record of these things. The people who know this will look at your shoes and see all of that in a glance, and the people who don\u2019t will tell you to take those shoes off. But don\u2019t you ever listen to them. You just keep wearing them, and I\u2019ll keep watching you walk in them. And I\u2019ll be proud.\u201d<\/p>\n
He\u2019s wearing them to school today. I see him filling my shoes, and continuing our long walk. I know those shoes are safe, and I can rest easy. I know they will walk on and on\u2014forever.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The shoes are grandfather\u2019s, and most unusual. When I first set foot in them I was twelve. I didn\u2019t know what they were. They had been handed down, I was told, through generations, and I should be honored to wear them. I wanted to ask Granddad why they were so special, but he wasn\u2019t around. He\u2019d passed away. The first time I wore them to school, I felt proud. The shoes were gold and shiny, and I felt ten feet tall. I felt like I could go anywhere with them. Go faster than anything. Like I could do anything. But the other kids made fun of me for wearing them. They said they were too out of date. They weren\u2019t cool enough. They weren\u2019t in style. They were weird and goofy, and nobody wore gold colored shoes. So I went home discouraged and told my mom about what happened. She said, \u201cSometimes people don\u2019t understand the value of a thing. They\u2019re looking at your shoes, and they see shoes that don\u2019t look like the ones they\u2019re used to. They see shoes, but what they don\u2019t see is where those shoes have been. Where they\u2019ve walked, what they\u2019ve tread on. They […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1885,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1884","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-stories"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/jan5.jpg?fit=648%2C486&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p32u0F-uo","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2613,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=2613","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":0},"title":"Mira","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"August 10, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"MIRA by Keith B. Phillips Omicron (\u03bf) Cetus, Mira (related to the words \"miraculous\", and \"ad-mire\", from Latin mirus, \"wonderful\"), is described as a deep garnet colored star located in the neck of the Whale or Sea-Monster. \u2014 The Constellation of Words She was late, but he didn\u2019t mind. It\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Stories"","block_context":{"text":"Stories","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=6"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/img_0592.jpg?fit=428%2C344&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1093,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=1093","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":1},"title":"Pride, Flags, and Plastic Frogmen","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"March 8, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"When I was a little kid growing up in the wilds of Canada, occasionally the topic of where you were from would come up. \"I'm an American,\" I would proudly say, although my only memories of the States were from four and five years old. They were spotty at best,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "News"","block_context":{"text":"News","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=3"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":1907,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=1907","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":2},"title":"Loss For Words","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"March 30, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Dad was always muttering under his breath. At first I thought he might be cursing. I would get up close to him, put my little hands around his neck and hold my face up next to his wiry whiskers. He'd laugh and ask me what I was up to. \"I'm\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Stories"","block_context":{"text":"Stories","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=6"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/img_0477.jpg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/img_0477.jpg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/img_0477.jpg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/03\/img_0477.jpg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":1309,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=1309","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":3},"title":"The Making of Villains","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"February 3, 2021","format":false,"excerpt":"How do you make a villain that feels credible? Meet Baxter Hickman. Part man, part monster, and totally being used.","rel":"","context":"In "My Thoughts On Stuff"","block_context":{"text":"My Thoughts On Stuff","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=8"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":3047,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=3047","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":4},"title":"The Villain I Made","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"March 30, 2022","format":false,"excerpt":"I've not been good at villain creation. I've known many of them in my life, but I haven't ever made one. I guess my storytelling child author just assumed people are good or bad. But in reality people are all different shades, moving in and out of these shadows, transforming,\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Stories"","block_context":{"text":"Stories","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=6"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":1068,"url":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?p=1068","url_meta":{"origin":1884,"position":5},"title":"The Pictures of You","author":"KeithBPhillips","date":"February 4, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"When I was fourteen we made a self portrait in art class. The teacher gave us a little mirror, told us to look at our face, and draw what we saw. I sat down and went to work. I used my eraser a lot because it was a just a\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "News"","block_context":{"text":"News","link":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/?cat=3"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/1200px-Mona_Lisa_by_Leonardo_da_Vinci_from_C2RMF_retouched.jpg?fit=805%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/1200px-Mona_Lisa_by_Leonardo_da_Vinci_from_C2RMF_retouched.jpg?fit=805%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/1200px-Mona_Lisa_by_Leonardo_da_Vinci_from_C2RMF_retouched.jpg?fit=805%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.keithbphillips.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/02\/1200px-Mona_Lisa_by_Leonardo_da_Vinci_from_C2RMF_retouched.jpg?fit=805%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1884","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1884"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1884\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1886,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1884\/revisions\/1886"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1885"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1884"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1884"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.keithbphillips.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1884"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}