The Soul-Changing Soles

Tenth birthday
Through the jungle of toys begging to be bought
A certain pair of sneakers called her name
Bright white rubber soles
Stitched to vivid red canvas
Where her feet would call home
Through the seasons, her friends and nearly everything changed
The sneakers continuously remained
Soles nearly gray and aglets frayed
Once bold red now muted and tamed
When the day finally came and her foot didn’t quite fit
She shoved as hard as she could but the seams nearly split
She’d brought them to donate
So that one day a little boy or girl could fill the pep that was vacant in her step to this day

Saturday morning and he had just been paid
Decided he would take his son on a shopping spree that day
At the local thrift shop, but to seven year olds brands didn’t matter  
His son looked all over the store
But one thing caught his eye
Threadbare crimson had captured his gaze
And why? He really couldn’t explain
He left the shop with the sneakers that day
And the way he walked was never the same

—By Amanda G., 16, New York  ♦