The Antique Shoe

I went to an antique store in Salt Lake City once and asked the proprietor about doorknobs and old spinning wheels. He promptly turned up his nose over the "everyday items", and declared he only handled REAL antiques, like pianos and tables. I suppose it depends on why one collects antiques. For me, the everyday items hold so much more charm and personality. Somewhere, a cobbler cut out the leather for this shoe. He has spent years practicing for this moment. He dyes the leather, cuts just enough thread for the stitches, and threads his needle. A few knocks with his hammer and the grommets are in. Proudly, he displays the shoes in his shop window, where a young mother sees and appreciates the quality of it. She brings in her active young son, who can barely hold still on the chair. The shoes are tried on, purchased and wrapped. They go everywhere with the boy: to the garden to chase the rabbits, through the grass to find the biggest grasshopper, to Grandmama's where he must sit quietly on his hard chair. One day, he is careless, and one is lost in the orchard. Mother hopes to find it, and sets the mate aside in the attic til then. Years pass, and it sits on a shelf in an antique store, waiting for someone to love on it. This shoe holds more magic for me than any old tapestry or mantel.