I once asked the cobbler, can you fix the hole in the soul?
I walked into his small, dusty shop,
with shoes that were not broken,
but with a heart that was.
He was an old man, hammering a sole, surrounded by leather and lost journeys.
I sat down and whispered,
"Cobbler, you fix what is torn and worn, you stitch the leather when it gives up.
Can you fix the hole in the soul?"He looked at me and smiled, a tired, knowing smile.
He said, "My child, I can fix a shoe that has walked too far.
I can put a new sole where the road has eaten the old one.
But the hole in the soul ah, that is a different craft.
That hole is not made by roads or stones.
It is made by people who left in the middle of the journey.
By words that were promised and never kept.
By love that stayed for a season and left like fall.
No thread can stitch it. No glue can hold it.
You cannot hammer it shut. You just have to learn to walk with it.
To let the wind pass through it sometimes.
To let the rain fall in, and then let it dry. One day, without you noticing,
someone's kindness will fall into that hole like a small coin,
and then another, and slowly, it will not be a hole anymore,
but a pocket where you keep all the lessons you learned."I left my shoes there,
and walked home barefoot.
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