‘Sandosenang Sapatos (A Dozen Pair of Shoes)

Luis P. Gaitmaitan

Father is a shoemaker. His shoes are well known in our area. Many people go here to request personalized designs. According to them,
father’s shoes can even beat those made in Marikina. His works are appreciated because of their quality and sophisticated designs.

“How can you think of those kinds of style? Impressive!”

“Maybe, the muse of shoes visits you.”

“It seems like you have a magical hand.”

With all these compliments, father only responds with a smile. Father is a quiet person. He seldom talks.

I grew up with all the shoes made by my father. My friends and classmates would always get envy because my father is a shoemaker.
Whenever the school starts, during my birthday and Christmas, or when I receive honors in class, I would always wear a new pair of
shoes. Sometimes, he makes another pair for me if there is extra leather.

“You are lucky, Katrina. You always have new shoes. Unlike yours, my shoes aren’t new. They were just handed down by my older
sister since they don’t fit anymore,” my classmate said.

I was in second grade when my mother got pregnant. We waited for so long for me to have a sibling. My grandmother even said that
their prayers were, at last, answered.

“Oh my, the baby will get a share of my shoes! But it’s okay. Father will make shoes for both of us.”

While the baby is still in my mother’s womb, I hear father and mother talking about something. “I had my consultation earlier. The doctor
said that we will have a baby girl.”

“Really? If it is a girl, let us make her learn ballet. It is my dream to have a daughter who is a ballet dancer. I will now start to learn
making ballet shoes.”

But not all of my father’s dreams came true. We were shocked to see my sister’s condition. She has no feet. No feet at all!

We hear a lot of bad rumors about the disability of my little sister. They say that Mother tried to abort the baby that’s why the body parts
were not complete. They also claim that unsafe medicines dissolved her feet. Others say fairies of shoes cursed my father because his
shoes are already expensive, or some blame Mother for being so fond of dolls that Susie developed their features.

“Mother, why doesn’t Susie have feet?

“It was because I got an infection, my dear. I acquired German measles when your little sister was still inside my womb, and this was
the effect,” explained by mother with deep sadness.

My little sister will never be a ballet dancer anymore. Father will be sad. This is what I think of every day and every time I see my little
sister’s condition. That is also why I beg Mother to enroll me again in a ballet school, which before I refused.

My teacher told Mother, “Ma'am, why don’t you try enrolling Katrina in a piano lesson or in a painting class? How about in a bandurria
class? Maybe, dancing is not really for her.”

I felt sad, not for myself, but for my father and Susie and for all their dreams that are almost impossible to reach.

I am a witness to how much father and mother loved her. Nobody can mock my little sister.

One time, when we were having a picnic, a man saw Susie.

“Oh, look at that kid! She fits in a carnival,” pointing to Susie.

Suddenly, Father became mad of what he heard. It was the first time I saw my father got really angry. He made a fist and almost
punched the man.

“Hey, what’s your problem, huh?”

Good thing Mother stopped him.

One night, when we were lying on our bed, I heard father talking to Susie.

“My child, it does not matter if you do not have feet. For us, what is important is that you become a good person who strongly believes
in what you are capable of.”

Father did not stop making shoes for me, but I observed that whenever he measures my feet, he sighs and looks on the crib.

“Bunso, I feel sad that you cannot wear the shoes made by our father,” I whispered to her. Susie and I grew up very close. Her disability
did not hinder us from playing and having fun. There are many other games that we can play without using legs or feet. She always
beats me in sungka, jackstone, scrabble, and in pitik-bulag. I am her defender whenever someone teases her. I am the one who
pushes her wheelchair. I am her ate, her assistant.

I found out that there are so many things we share in common. We can both do great things with our hands. I am good at painting, and
Susie is good at writing stories. Oh, I almost forgot! Father is also good at making things with his hands.

One time, Susie woke me up. She told me that she had a dream about these magnificent shoes. According to her, those shoes
perfectly fit her feet.

“She has feet in her dreams?” I asked myself with surprise.

“Believe me, Ate. The shoes in my dream are so beautiful. They are color yellow and have sunflower toe tips!”

She was about to celebrate her birthday at that time, and I observed that days before her birthday, she would always have dreams
about having shoes.

“Ate, my dream was, again, about shoes. This time, the pair is color velvet with a large buckle on its side.”

She also mentioned a pair of blue shoes with no toe cap, so her toenails were already seen. Others were white with red ribbons, leather
shoes embroidered with moon and stars, sandals similar to a fish net, and violet shoes with toe caps decorated with crystals.

I was really amazed that she remembered every detail – the kind of flower that was used as decoration, ribbon, buttons, sequins,
beads, or buckle. She claimed that all those shoes were hers.

“Ate, when I grow up, I will write stories about those shoes. Will you draw them, huh?”

After several years, father decided to quit shoemaking. He only made shoes for those customers whom he could not refuse. Before,
when he celebrated his birthday, I gave him one of my paintings which showed old, weary hands making shoes. Susie, on the other
hand, gave our father a music box with a dancing ballerina.

You made your father really happy.” Mother told us.

Since then, father became very sickly. Susie was just twelve years old when he died.

One day, I unintentionally passed by the storeroom. There, I look for old shoes which I can donate to the children of an orphanage.
While looking for some, I, by mistake, opened a big, old box. It seemed like the box had been there for a long time. It contained small
shoe boxes which were properly arranged.

“What are these shoes for? Did somebody order these and were not delivered?” I asked. But when I looked at the pairs of shoes, I was
really shocked. Those were the most excellent designs of our father. They have different sizes and forms. Shoes for babies, for
baptism, for first communion, and even for a mass were there. Some shoes were designed simply for going out or for school.

I got even more surprised to see the dedication attached.

“To my beloved Susie…” for her first birthday

There is a gift for her first birthday. Then I looked at the boxes one by one. All the shoes are for Susie. Father made shoes for Susie.

“To Susie, the meaning of my life…” for her seventh birthday

There was not a year did father forget to make shoes for Susie’s birthdays. There are twelve pairs all in all.

To my youngest daughter whom I love dearly…” for her 12th birthday

I couldn’t help but cry when I saw those shoes. I did not know Father’s love was like that. I carried the dozen pairs of shoes and showed
them to mother and Susie.

“I-I did not know that he made you some shoes, Susie.” Tears started growing in Mother’s eyes. “He did not show any of these to me.”

“A-Ate, these are the shoes in my dreams,” Susie softly uttered while touching each pair. Susie could not believe it with her eyes.

“What?”

It was only at that time when I remembered the shoes Susie mentioned to me before.

Yellow shoes with sunflower decoration in toe cap. Velvet shoes with a large buckle on its side. Blue shoes without the toe caps. White
shoes with heels and red ribbon. Leather shoes embroidered with moon and stars. A pair of sandals resembling a fish net. Violet shoes
with crystals.

I wondered if it was really possible that Father’s love transcended to her dreams just to let Susie wore those shoes.