the blue sneakers

 

Days seemed grander then. The sun would burst through the window each morning as an invitation to a new adventure. These were the days before darkness fell by way of school. 

My blue sneakers leaped upon my feet. With them I too could leap across my bed, the floor and the grass. Light as air, faster than a speeding bullet. Fast, faster, fastest. All I had to do was will it and my sneakers took me there. I still see them clearly, though eyes fail and memories fade. Blue sneakers, I think they call them Cons or Chucks now. In 1955 they were flying machines that changed days into adventures, moved walking to running and running to leaping.

Blue sneakers could hide the coming of dark days a little longer. I did not know, what child could, that I would grow out of those sneakers to soon. With them I would grow out of the adventures they took me on. Those shoes held me to a glorious summer. The last summer in some ways. That summer the sun was brighter, days early and longer. Nights came but they came with a welcome rest when legs can't find another mountain to climb. As mornings grew colder, tread grew thinner and the blue sneakers began to tarnish, fade and lose their luster.

The fateful day came. One dark dreary morning I had to put upon my feet a new shiny pair of leather shoes. Why? Why did the summer have to end? Why does any summer end and why would anyone wear shiny leather shoes? They seemed like a punishment for something I did wrong. Flying about in blue sneakers had seemed the rightest thing I had ever known. Now I am sentenced to waking up before the sun, putting pain on my feet and walking, never running, all day.

Now, though eyes fail and memory fades, I understand better why seasons change and why not all days carry summer in them. And I know that blue sneakers can still bring a bit of summer into your feet and adventure into your day.

(written by the Preacher)