Bob's Shoes for the Barefeet
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Bob’s Shoes for the Barefeet
This is a true story that happened in Eau Claire, Wisconsin during a cold winter day just before Christmas. My high school English teacher, Robert Carr, is a very generous man with an enormous heart. His story inspired me to start a project to collect money for shoes for those in need. Donations will be used for new shoes for people in need. I will be working with the Plymouth Street Ministries in Eau Claire, WI. Here is his story from December, 2014 (edited).-
A Winter's Story
As I walked out of my doctor's office, into that Wisconsin, December cold, I noticed what appeared to be a homeless man close by. He was bundled in stocking cap, a hoody, and a tattered camo coat. His dirty duffle bag rested beside him. He was forty something, with long, matted hair, a dirty beard, no gloves, and no shoes. He was standing in the snow, in his stocking feet!
Our eyes locked momentarily. Then we both quickly looked away.
I headed for my car, glanced at him one more time, got in and started the engine. I sat for several seconds, feeling confused, puzzled and stunned. My mind was racing: What do I do? What can I do? Is he dangerous?
He was still looking away. As he started to leave, impulsively, I opened the door and called to him as I moved in his direction. What to say?
“Have you no shoes?”
“They fell apart.”
“Are you OK?”
“Some lady said she would help me. She went into one of those buildings. That was about twenty minutes ago. She was probably trying to get away from me, or calling the cops.”
So much was running through my mind. I was confused; unsure. Then, I heard my voice say, “Get in the car. We'll get you some shoes.”
He seemed startled, and uncomfortable. Could he be as nervous as I? He protested, said he'd smell up my car.
It took a bit of persuasion, but, he put his duffle bag in the back seat, got into the passenger side, and apologized for his smell.
Two men. Two strangers. Both nervous and unsure. An uncomfortable silence. Me, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Where would I get him shoes? What to talk about?
“Where are you from?”
“Tennessee. I was in Duluth. I don''t stay in shelters. They're too dangerous. You get robbed or beaten up. I usually sleep under a bridge. That's where I slept last night. Went to put on my shoes this morning, and they fell apart.”
All the while, his back was to me, looking out the window.
“Why are you in Eau Claire?”
“They bought me a bus ticket back to Tennessee. That's a three day trip, and I don't have money for food. That's why I got off here.”
I had decided to go to a large, discount shoe store. On the way, we passed a movie theatre, where he saw “The Hobbit” was playing. He said he'd like to see it someday. He had seen the others.
When we pulled into the parking lot, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. He said he was afraid they might not let him in.
It's difficult to explain the thoughts and emotions that were churning inside me.
But one thing I was certain of; he was going to get a pair of boots!
Putting on my best actor persona, I said. “Follow me!”
When we got to the first door, I held it for him. The second, he held for me. And we made our entrance. And what an entrance it must have been: the sight of a short, portly old man, accompanied by a tall, toothless, bearded, dirty, barefoot, homeless man carrying a dirty duffel bag, along the pronouncement of, “This man needs a pair of boots! Take care of it.”
It must have had an effect, because, as best they could, the staff could not conceal their wide eyes and open mouths.
To their credit, they were very helpful and attentive. Since he wore a size fourteen shoe, the selection was limited. When he went to try on a boot, he removed three pair of wet stockings, which revealed his feet wrapped in plastic bags.
“Does that help?”
“Oh, yeah.'”
The boots fit. In addition, I got him a few pairs of wool socks. More than once, he thanked me, and was concerned about the cost.
Throwing his old socks away, we walked out together.
For this first time he looked at me; with watery eyes, he looked into mine. He said, “I don't know if you believe in God of not……” his voice trailed.
We looked at each other for several seconds. I said, “I understand. I know”. And then he hugged me. He hugged me hard.
We went to the car; again, he apologized for his smell. I asked where he wanted me to take him. What his plans were for the night. He didn't know.
I had an idea. I took him to the movie theatre; I gave him some money, and told him, I wanted him to see “The Hobbit”.
He was like a kid; a dirty, toothless, forty-something, kid! He asked if I would go in with him, to talk to the management, so they wouldn't throw him out.
In we went. I cleared everything. He got his ticket. He got a big barrel of pop corn, and a large coke. With a “God bless you” and one more huge hug, we went our separate ways. He to “The Hobbit”, and me to my warm home.
As I sat in front of my fireplace, with our three Christmas trees lighted, supper heating in the oven, and my dogs and cat next to me, I felt, strangely uncomfortable, and sadly, uneasy.
I learned so much. I felt so much. I owe so much.
And the words of Tiny Tim, rang in my ears, “God bless us, everyone”.
If you would like to help, please feel free to donate to our cause this holiday season.
This is a true story that happened in Eau Claire, Wisconsin during a cold winter day just before Christmas. My high school English teacher, Robert Carr, is a very generous man with an enormous heart. His story inspired me to start a project to collect money for shoes for those in need. Donations will be used for new shoes for people in need. I will be working with the Plymouth Street Ministries in Eau Claire, WI. Here is his story from December, 2014 (edited).-
A Winter's Story
As I walked out of my doctor's office, into that Wisconsin, December cold, I noticed what appeared to be a homeless man close by. He was bundled in stocking cap, a hoody, and a tattered camo coat. His dirty duffle bag rested beside him. He was forty something, with long, matted hair, a dirty beard, no gloves, and no shoes. He was standing in the snow, in his stocking feet!
Our eyes locked momentarily. Then we both quickly looked away.
I headed for my car, glanced at him one more time, got in and started the engine. I sat for several seconds, feeling confused, puzzled and stunned. My mind was racing: What do I do? What can I do? Is he dangerous?
He was still looking away. As he started to leave, impulsively, I opened the door and called to him as I moved in his direction. What to say?
“Have you no shoes?”
“They fell apart.”
“Are you OK?”
“Some lady said she would help me. She went into one of those buildings. That was about twenty minutes ago. She was probably trying to get away from me, or calling the cops.”
So much was running through my mind. I was confused; unsure. Then, I heard my voice say, “Get in the car. We'll get you some shoes.”
He seemed startled, and uncomfortable. Could he be as nervous as I? He protested, said he'd smell up my car.
It took a bit of persuasion, but, he put his duffle bag in the back seat, got into the passenger side, and apologized for his smell.
Two men. Two strangers. Both nervous and unsure. An uncomfortable silence. Me, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Where would I get him shoes? What to talk about?
“Where are you from?”
“Tennessee. I was in Duluth. I don''t stay in shelters. They're too dangerous. You get robbed or beaten up. I usually sleep under a bridge. That's where I slept last night. Went to put on my shoes this morning, and they fell apart.”
All the while, his back was to me, looking out the window.
“Why are you in Eau Claire?”
“They bought me a bus ticket back to Tennessee. That's a three day trip, and I don't have money for food. That's why I got off here.”
I had decided to go to a large, discount shoe store. On the way, we passed a movie theatre, where he saw “The Hobbit” was playing. He said he'd like to see it someday. He had seen the others.
When we pulled into the parking lot, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. He said he was afraid they might not let him in.
It's difficult to explain the thoughts and emotions that were churning inside me.
But one thing I was certain of; he was going to get a pair of boots!
Putting on my best actor persona, I said. “Follow me!”
When we got to the first door, I held it for him. The second, he held for me. And we made our entrance. And what an entrance it must have been: the sight of a short, portly old man, accompanied by a tall, toothless, bearded, dirty, barefoot, homeless man carrying a dirty duffel bag, along the pronouncement of, “This man needs a pair of boots! Take care of it.”
It must have had an effect, because, as best they could, the staff could not conceal their wide eyes and open mouths.
To their credit, they were very helpful and attentive. Since he wore a size fourteen shoe, the selection was limited. When he went to try on a boot, he removed three pair of wet stockings, which revealed his feet wrapped in plastic bags.
“Does that help?”
“Oh, yeah.'”
The boots fit. In addition, I got him a few pairs of wool socks. More than once, he thanked me, and was concerned about the cost.
Throwing his old socks away, we walked out together.
For this first time he looked at me; with watery eyes, he looked into mine. He said, “I don't know if you believe in God of not……” his voice trailed.
We looked at each other for several seconds. I said, “I understand. I know”. And then he hugged me. He hugged me hard.
We went to the car; again, he apologized for his smell. I asked where he wanted me to take him. What his plans were for the night. He didn't know.
I had an idea. I took him to the movie theatre; I gave him some money, and told him, I wanted him to see “The Hobbit”.
He was like a kid; a dirty, toothless, forty-something, kid! He asked if I would go in with him, to talk to the management, so they wouldn't throw him out.
In we went. I cleared everything. He got his ticket. He got a big barrel of pop corn, and a large coke. With a “God bless you” and one more huge hug, we went our separate ways. He to “The Hobbit”, and me to my warm home.
As I sat in front of my fireplace, with our three Christmas trees lighted, supper heating in the oven, and my dogs and cat next to me, I felt, strangely uncomfortable, and sadly, uneasy.
I learned so much. I felt so much. I owe so much.
And the words of Tiny Tim, rang in my ears, “God bless us, everyone”.
If you would like to help, please feel free to donate to our cause this holiday season.
Organizer and beneficiary
Ryan Miescke
Organizer
Eau Claire, WI
Robert Carr
Beneficiary
