Where some see shoes, I see a father desperately comforting his daughter telling her everything will be fine, where he knows it won’t be fine ever again.
Where some see shoes, I see missed opportunities of getting to know the people who wore them.
Where some see shoes, I see the sad face of a little boy who is just so exhausted after a train journey. Not a luxurious journey on the way to visit his grandparents or on a short vacation. A train journey packed with so many others, strangers, like cattle, Deprived from food and water.
Where some see shoes, I see an old woman who only celebrated her 99th birthday last week, but has now been killed in a gas chamber.
Where some see shoes, I see a teacher, a musician, an artist, a Doctor, a home maker, a cleaning lady, a garbage man, a lover, a poet, a child.
I see more than shoes. I see lives destroyed. futures disrupted, potential unfulfilled all because of hate.
I see more than shoes, I also see an opportunity for prayer and meditation any way of showing love to their souls wherever they may be now.
Hate will never win, Love will never stop.
History of Sorts 
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