Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SOUL / SOLE (03/02/23)
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TITLE: Lessons from the Mysterious Shoe Caper | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
03/09/23 -
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Around the time he discovered he could use his feet as a percussion instrument by stomping up and down at warp speed, I figured he must have been captivated by that group of young guys he saw on television showcasing well-choreographed footwork in a line. As it turned out, he was probably less impressed with their Olympian feats of feet and more enamored with making a loud staccato racket in his new slip-on shoes.
When he suddenly stopped and grimaced mid-stomp during one of his brief impromptu performances, I felt something was afoot.
“Ouch! Mom, what’s hurting me in my left shoe?”
In a flash, the offending loafer was in my hand to investigate the problem with that special fix-it reputation Mothers often have with their younger children, but only for a few seconds in time. My cutoff was impending.
After feeling around the inside for loose gravel and whacking it on the floor to dislodge whatever was stopping his fun, I flipped it over to inspect the smooth leather sole.
“Hey, Mom. Remember when Dad stepped on a crabapple thorn, and it went right through his shoe and into his foot, and we took him to the emergency room for a tetanus shot?”
We could eliminate that theory since there were no crabapples in our living room—at least as far as I knew, but nothing is impossible in little boy land.
“Here. Try it again, son.”
When he attempted to push his foot back in the wayward shoe, it was as if a growth spurt had shot directly through the window and into all points below his left ankle. (Like the mixed-up humorous spoonerism Rindercella story that points out the prince’s failed attempt to put the glass slipper on the mugly step-sisters, it fidn’t dit!)
By then, the tap dancing had lost its charm, so he left to reclaim comfortable standby sneakers more suited to jumping and running. I was still pondering the mystery and looking for clues.
Ah hah! The right shoe was a size larger than the left. Not only that, but the sole was made of a different-looking material. The final stunning discovery made me gasp. They were two different brands!
When I returned the strange mismatched, wrong-sized penny loafers, the clerk was not that surprised. She said exactly what I expected.
“Well, we know there’s probably another pair just like this one on someone’s guilty feet.”
I was sad to hear how often shoppers do some creative pairing for their unmatched feet when the salesperson’s attention is elsewhere. Maybe there could be a registry where customers find their opposite sole mates and stay honest by sharing their purchases. Or perhaps I’m dreaming.
The sermon illustration in this true story is almost too obvious, but here goes. For anyone who has been in a cave for decades or is oblivious to current culture while in outer space, the parallel we can draw is with the overused term soul mate.
We can debate that one foot, clogging alone, is merely hopping. Pain on one side makes walking together more difficult. Or, different brands of faith do not offer a solid base to build a family.
Like my child’s shoe adventure, relationships forced into the wrong mold can cause needless pain. A determined push to fit while ignoring the lopsided signs will cause the dancing to stop, tears to begin, and finally, abandonment of the whole idea in a rush to seek comfort elsewhere.
Sharing the same interests may sound like a good start to that “soul connection” thing, but the most genuine approach is through prayer and obedience. God always has the best plan.
Humans can fall prey to thorns through their soles but also their souls. There will be times when gleeful dancing may wane for a time, but stopping to inspect and repair an unexpected glitch is always the smart way to get back on track.
A match made in Heaven provides many opportunities to laugh and leap with joy, secure in the knowledge that the right pair found each other.
On the other hand, a bunch of useless noise made by flurries of furious stomping on the floor doesn’t yield much satisfaction.
It didn’t work for *Rumpelstiltskin either.
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Non-Fiction
* A German fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm in 1812
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