A little boy and his father were walking down the side of a dirt road when the child caught sight of a single shoe lying in a ditch.  “Look Daddy”, he said, “someone put a shoe on the side of the road.”  It looked new; and try as he might the little boy could not see its mate anywhere.  “Why do you suppose they left it there?” he asked his father.

The corners of the man’s mouth turned up in a knowing smile.  Always happy to tell a story, he began…

 

"There once was a man who suffered from a pain in the heel of his left foot, and nothing he did would help.

Looking for some relief, he went out into the courtyard of his home to talk to his wife.   

His wife pursed her lips in an attitude of disdain when she heard his question and indicated that he should sit closer so that no one would overhear them. 

“Nobody in our family has ever had pain like that before.” she whispered.  The two of them positioned themselves on a bench that sat underneath a tree that was planted in the middle of a large expanse of well-manicured grass.  A few feet away, the couple’s older children sat, cross-legged on silk seat cushions in two orderly rows. Their tutor moved from student to student, watching over their bent shoulders as they making neat, uniform marks on the pages of their lesson books.  The wife’s gaze wandered in the other direction just across the lawn, to the youngest children, who were still too young for lessons, as they played with a ball with their nurse.  “Besides, we must set a good example for our children.  We wouldn’t want anyone to think that this sort of thing ran in our family.” She continued resolutely. “Just ignore it”, she said, “it will go away in time.”

So, the man tried to ignore the pain, and walked with a pronounced limp from place to place.

But his foot still hurt.

 

One day, as he slowly made his way down the road, he ran into a friend of his and decided to ask him about his problem.

“That’s easy”, said the man.  “You need new shoes, like the ones that I am wearing.”  The unhappy man looked at the shoes on his friend’s feet and saw that they were very fancy and expensive shoes indeed.  “I have found”, his friend continued,“that purchasing something new always helps me when I am feeling unwell.  Have you seen our neighbour across the creek?”  The man’s friend looked from side to side warily, and leaned forward saying, “I mean, have you seen his shoes?  Definitely, second-rate.”, he whispered with a self-satisfied grin.

The man was unsure, but, if owning such an expensive pair of shoes would give him relief from the pain, but it was worth the money if it helped.  So he hopped into town and bought several pairs, which cost him a small fortune. 

The new, expensive shoes helped for a little while, but before long, the pain returned and the man was unhappy again.  This time, he was forced to walk with a cane to take the weight off his foot and he was not pleased.  He did not want to spend so much money every time his foot hurt, so he decided to visit his physician for a cure. 

 

The physician was a very learned man.  He had all kinds of certificates and diplomas in gilded frames hanging on his office walls.  He propped the man’s leg up on a stool while he considered the situation with a very serious expression on his long, bearded face.  He didn’t speak to the man, but every so often he would inhale sagely and say “I see.” to nobody in particular.  When he was done looking he turned to the nurse and said something to her that the man did not understand.  She nodded and left the room.  Several minutes later, she returned with a number of small pots.  “You must apply the first one twice a day, every other day”, she said to the man. “The second one, three times a day but only every third day, the third once a day every two days, and the fourth as often as you like.”  Her long fingers lingered over the lids as she spoke, pointing out which pot was which.  The man lifted the first pot and opened the lid.  He grimaced at the terrible odour and looked at the greasy-looking ointment.  He was ashamed to admit that he had already forgotten the instructions.

“What is wrong with my foot?” he asked the physician.  The physician just nodded to the nurse who answered.  “We’re not sure.  But these ointments will ease the pain.”

“What good is that?” said the man.  “When the medicine is gone, I will just have to come back for more.”

The nurse looked annoyed and said curtly, “The doctor knows what is best for you.  Here is a crutch to help you along.”

The man was still unhappy but he didn’t want to argue with such a learned presence so he thanked them both, took the crutch, and went on his way.

 

The ointments smelled so badly that he was forced to contain the smell by wrapping his foot in yards and yards of bandages which he purchased from his friend, the weaver.  As a result, his bandaged foot would not fit into the expensive shoe that his other friend has told him to buy.  He placed all the unused shoes in a pile by the door and sighed sadly whenever he saw them.  Sure enough, the pain returned when the medicine was used up and the poor man was even more miserable than he was before.

This time, he decided to go see the priest.

 

The priest listened to the man and said “We all suffer in this life, but”, he continued, with great conviction, “you need not suffer alone.  We will provide you with a brother-priest who will carry you.”

The man blinked in disbelief.  “I would prefer to walk on my own.” He said.

“Nonsense.” Replied the priest.  “We will carry you.”

The priest assigned a fellow priest, a large, burley man who was very strong and up to the task.

At first, it was rather nice to be carried by the big brother, and the man smiled at the people he passed in the streets from atop his broad shoulders.  But after a few weeks of this treatment, the priest who had assigned the servant came to visit him in his home.  He looked very concerned as he spoke to the man.

“My brother priest has reported to me that there are several places you have visited that are not, shall we say, appropriate for your purposes.”

“What do you mean?” replied the man.  “I’m only visiting those I conduct my business with.  They have done no one any harm.”

“Well,” said the priest, “the big brother reports that only yesterday you visited the weaver.”

“Yes,” said the man, “he sells me my bandages.”

The priest sniffed and said, “Well, he is not a member of our church and so henceforth we will not deliver you to the weaver’s business.”

The man nodded, dumbfounded, but that was not all.   The priest took a paper from his coat and unfolded it.  “Here is a list of all the places that you may not go.” He announced.  “I trust that you will read it and comply.”

The man took the letter and read it.  “But this will make it impossible for me to support my family.” He said. “How will we live?”

“We will provide you with a list of appropriate persons and you must have faith that that will be enough.” With that, the priest got up to leave.

When the man was alone, he looked over the list and sighed.

“What is to become of me and my family?” he wondered.  Wishing to clear his head, he decided to go out for a walk.  The big brother stood up, prepared to carry him again but the man just shook his head and waved him away.  Instead, he hobbled painfully outside on his own.

 

The pain grew worse as he walked; but more than that, the man started to feel very sad.  After a while, he felt so sad that he limped off the road and sat down underneath a large tree and cried.

“Why are you crying?” came a small voice from behind the tree.  A little face, belonging to a  young child peeked around the trunk.  “What is wrong?” she said.

“Oh,” said the man between sobs, “I have this pain in my foot.  My wife said to ignore it but that didn’t help.  My friend said I needed to have better shoes, and they didn’t help.  The physician said I needed medicine but that didn’t help.  And the priest had someone carry me but really, that doesn’t help much either.  Oh, you’re just a child “he said in exasperation, “I doubt you’d understand.” 

The child looked at the man and folded her hands while she thought.  “Well, have you looked at it?”

The man’s eyes went wide when he realized that he had never actually taken a look at the bottom of his foot.

“Here, I have a mirror”, said the child thoughtfully.  “We can look together.”

Seeing his foot for the first time, the man was shocked to find the end of a large, wooden splinter sticking out of a spot on his heel.  With a quick tug, he removed the splinter and a wave of relief washed over him as the pain suddenly ended. 

He was so happy that he took off his other show and tossed it into the ditch and danced around in his bare feet while the child giggled. 

 

 

            And that is how your shoe got into that ditch, said the father to his son.

“AWWW dad,” said his son in disbelief, ‘you’re just making that up!”