Sunday, June 20, 2010

Old Shoes

There's an ad running on TV now that shows a man looking at a wrecked car, and thinking "This Subaru saved my live--I'll never forget that."  Before he leaves, he takes the knob off the gear shift as a momento.

I felt like that today.  I was doing some cleaning up, and I tossed an old pair of tennis shoes.  They're old--the outside is grungy, the lining is torn, and the soles are falling off.

But these are the shoes I was wearing the day I was bitten by the rattlesnake.  If you look closely at the tongue of the left shoe with a magnifying glass you can see a tiny hole where one of the snake's fangs pierced it.  Only the other fang got me.  Because of that shoe, I got only a half dose of venom.  Might not have saved my life, but it may have saved my foot.  I'm grateful.

But, alas--I can't see hanging onto an old shoe.  So I'll keep the memory, and the gratitude, and let the shoe go.

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