GE - PPTP

PAGBASA AT PAGSULAT

Sandosenang Sapatos

ni Luis P. Gatmaitan, M.D.

Dad was good enough. Her shoes are well known here in our town. Many come to us for
customization. According to the words, beat Dad's shoes were still raw with the shoes made by
the Caribbean. Robust, his shoes are pure, and creative.

“How do you think of such a style? How nice!”

“Maybe, the shoe visits you with shoes and swells.”

“Your hand seems to be magical!”

With all the praise, Dad was just smiling. Dad was a quiet man.

Speaks rarely.

I grew up wearing shoes that Dad made. Often it is interrupted

I'm my playwright and classmate. My Dad was good and good enough. Always continuous
before
my shoes when entrance, at Christmas, when it’s my birthday, or if received
I'm honors in class. He even made me spare shoes when there were some leftover skin and
cloth.

“Still, good for you Karina, always before your shoes. Me, my sister's always been. In 'I go all the
bitterness,' he shouted at a classmate.

I was in Grade II when Mom got pregnant again. For a long time, we waited for my brother. My
Grandma said, she answered their long prayer for me to follow.

“Gosh, I will ever have a split in shoes! But, Dad and I are going to make shoes now.”
While baby was still in my stomach, I heard Dad and Mom talking.

“I checked up earlier. The doctor said, woman will be our son!”

“Really! If so, let's study ballet. I want to have a ballet dancer! Now I'm just going to study
making ballet shoes.”

But not all of Dad's dreams come true. We were all surprised to see my new brother. It has no
feet. Born two feet broken!

We heard what gossip was because of my brother's disability. Maybe raw planned that Mom
would drop my sister so the body part was missing. The injured drugs dipped his feet. Shoe
fairies cursed Dad because he loved to charge custom shoes. Or maybe Susie was conceived in
the doll.

“Mom, why is Susie has a bare foot?”

“I had an infection child. German measles infected me while I was pregnant with your sister.
And. “Mom, why is Susie so bare?”

“I had an infection child. German measles infected me while I was pregnant with your sister.
That was the effect,” Mom told a sad story.

My brother will no longer be a ballet dancer. Dad was sad. Every day, that's what I think when I
see Susie's feet. So, I forced Mom to re-educate me at a ballet school (previously, I didn't want
to go ballet). But.

“Mrs., why not try to enroll Karina on the piano, or in painting, or in the bandurria class?
Dancing is not really for her,” said my teacher to my Mom. That was the effect,” Mom told a sad
story.

My brother will no longer be a ballet dancer. Dad was sad. Every day, that's what I think when I
see Susie's feet. So, I forced Mom to re-educate me at a ballet school (previously, I didn't want
to go ballet). But.

“Mrs., why not try to enroll Karina on the piano, or in painting, or in the bandurria class?
Dancing is not really for her,” said my teacher to my Mom.

I was sad. Not for myself, but for Dad and Susie, and for dreams that are too elusive.
I was a witness to how Dad and Mom loved him. No one can cheat on my young sister. Once, as
we were having a picnic at the park, a mama saw Susie.

“Look at that, you can carnivore that kid!” it taught Susie.

Suddenly Dad blushed at what he heard. The fists got up. It was only then that I saw Dad's
eyebrows met. He almost punched it. “What's your problem, huh?”

Well Mom stopped him.

One night, as we lay in bed, I heard Dad talking to Susie.

“Son, don’t mind your feet. Your Mom is more important to us that you grow up a good person.
And trust in yourself.” He kissed her well.

Dad never stopped creating shoes for me. But I noticed, when he was kicking my foot, he was
sighing. Then look at the crib.

“That’s too bad, little sis, you can never wear the fancy shoes that Dad made.” I whispered to
her.

Susie and I grew up close to each other. His lack of foot didn't make the barrier for us to play.
There are many games that do not require foot. He always beat me with a foothold, jackstone,
scrabble, and a blink. I am his protector when someone hits him. I am
his wheelchair pusher. I'm the sister who will!

It was then that I discovered that we had many similarities. Our hands are both better than our
feet. Me, in painting. He, in writing stories. And yes, Dad, hand is good to him too!

Sometimes, Susie wakes me up. He said he dreamed of an extraordinary shoe. It was so

beautiful on her feet.

“She has a dream leg?” panic I ask myself.

“Believe, Ate, in the beauty of my dream shoes. Yellow patent leather shoes with sunflower
decoration on the front!”

He was going to get better then. And I noticed, every time his birthday came up, he dreamed of
shoes.

“Ate, I'm dreaming of shoes again. It's a velvet color and has a big buckle on the side.”
She also mentioned to me the blue shoes that open the end and her fingers were clear. White
shoes with little heels and ribbon red. Jeans shoes with moon embroidery and stars. That sandal
like a net. The purple shoe with a crystal-clear front.

I wonder how he remembers the smallest details of shoes - the discreet flowers, ribbons,
buttons, sequins, beads, or
buckle. He claims the shoes are.

“Ate, as I grow older, I will write stories about the shoes I dream of. You're the one to the
drawing huh?”

A few years later, Dad was already resting on the shoes. He is just making shoes for the
uninitiated. When
she was having a birthday, I was teasing her with one of my paintings with a pair of shady hands
creating shoes. Susie even gave her a music box with a ballet dancer.

“You make Dad happy,” Mom said.

After that, he became very ill. Susie was twelve years old when Dad passed away.

One day, I was accidentally killed in the warehouse. I'm wearing old shoes that can be given to
children at home-orphanage In the hustle, I opened a box that looked like a long time ago. It
contains small boxes. Shoe boxes carefully
stacked up!

” For whom are the shoes? Has anyone ordered that not be delivered?” I ask you.

But when I looked at the pair of shoes that was, I was surprised. Shoes feature Dad's finest
design. It varies in size. Baby Shoes. There are shoes to baptize. There is a first communion.
Traveler. There is school entrance. There is a church. There are shoes on girl.

I was especially surprised to read his dedication to the hanging paper:

For my dear Susie,

Offer his first birthday

I put the boxes one by one. All the shoes there are for Susie. Didn't Dad make Susie shoes?

For Susie, my life was ravaged

As he approaches the seventh birthday

Every year, Dad doesn't rush into creating shoes every time Susie closes her birthday! A dozen of
shoes all-in all.

Handog my dear youngest

On his 12th birthday

I was crying when I saw the shoes. I don't think Dad would love to love her. I grabbed the shoes
and showed them to Mom and Susie.

“I didn’t know he made shoes for you, Susie.” Tears were shed in Mom's eyes. “He hid the shoes
from me.”

“S-Sis, these are the shoes I dream of.” Susie couldn't believe it while caressing the shoes one by
one.

“Ha?”

It was only then that I remembered the shoes Susie was talking about.

Yellow patent leather shoes with decorative sunflower on the front. Red velvet color with big
buckle on the side. Blue shoes open the end and fingers clear. White with a little heel and ribbon
red. Shoes made of jeans with embroidered moon and stars. Sandals like a net. Color purple
shoes
with a crystal-clear circle on the front.

I thought, did Dad love Susie's dreams so much that she could wear her shoes?

I'm not going to waste it.

All I know is that this life is not perfect. My brother's creation is not perfect. But there are
perfect moments. The moments when Dad created the best shoes for Susie.