Touched My Soul...

My alarm went off -- it was Sunday again;
I was tired -- it was my one day to sleep in.
But the guilt I'd have felt the rest of the day
Would have been too much, so I'd go; I'd pray.

I showered and shaved, adjusted tie and suit,
Got there just in time and swung into a pew
In humble prayer, I bowed my head
But before closing my eyes, I noticed instead
The shoe of the man who was on my left side
Was touching my own, and irritated, I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side, I thought,
"Why was he close?" I felt trapped and caught.
It bothered me so; "Why do our soles have to touch?"
He was glued to my shoe, but it seemed not to bother him much.

Then the prayer began: "Our Father," someone said
But I just stared at his shoes - dusty, scratched end to end.
So I thought to myself, "Does this man have no pride?"
Just look at those shoes - worn out with holes on the side!

"Thank You for blessings," the prayer continued on.
"You love us, O Lord, and call us your own."
The shoe man uttered a quiet "amen."
I tried to focus on the prayer, but saw his shoes again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best when we walk through that door?
"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought, glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer ended and the praise songs began.
The shoe man was loud, singing praise without end
His voice raised the rafters; his hands lifted high;
The Lord surely heard his praise from on high

Then the offering was passed; what I threw in was steep.
The shoe man reached into his pockets, so deep
And I tried to see what he pulled out to put in,
Then I heard a soft "clink," as when silver hits tin.

The sermon bored me to tears--And no lie--
It was the same for the shoe man, for tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service, as is custom here,
We must greet the visitors and show them good cheer.

But I was moved inside to meet this strange man,
So after the service, I reached out - shook his hand.
He was old, his skin dark, his hair was a mess.
I thanked him for coming, for being our guest,

He said, "My name's Charlie, glad to meet you, my friend,"
And there were tears in his eyes--but he had a wide grin.
"Let me explain," he said, wiping his eyes.
"I've been coming for months, and you're the first to say, "Hi."

I know I don't look at all like all the rest,
But I always work hard to look my best."
"I polish my shoes before my long walk,
But by the time I get here they're as dirty as chalk."

My heart fell to my knees, but I held back my tears,
He continued, "And I must apologize for sitting so near."
"But I know when I get here, I must look a sight.
And I thought. . If I touched you, our souls might unite."

I was silent for a moment knowing anything I said
Would pale in comparison, so I spoke from my heart not my head.
"Oh, you've touched me," I said. "And taught me, in part,
That the best of a man is what's in his heart."

The rest, I thought, this man will never know.
How thankful I am that he touched my soul!

 Author Unknown To Me...