History of Sorts

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.