In the back of my closet, hidden among the Nikes, old socks and run down high heel shoes I found a sealed shoes box that had been left there twenty years ago when I had first moved to my then-new apartment and threw things aside to be opened later.

It was a fancy box which had been filled with a fancy pair of shoes from the store I always wanted to afford to shop in regularly, but could only splurge when I felt sad or needed to feel my life was important. Who would have thought a pair of uncomfortable, spiked heels with red soles could do the trick. Of course, it didn’t last. I couldn’t wear them often. They hurt my feet and I didn’t achieve the graceful gait I had imagined. They sat on the shelf and I dreamed of the places they would take me. The magic they would give. Then there was the day I wore them to prove I was all the things I wanted to be. It was going well until it began to rain. It stormed with thunder and lightening added into the mix. I was drenched outside and crying in my heart. The shoes were muddy and scuffed and one heel was broken when I sat on the library steps mingling my tears with all the rages of nature. Engulfed with sorrow. The shoes are gone now. Where did they go? Fancy leather engulfed, also. But I was still here and I still had the box.

I took it out and placed it on my bed, trying to remember what it could contain and why I would have so carefully sealed it and brought it with me so long ago.

I finally could wait no longer in anticipation of what was there so I removed the lid and looked at the tissue paper inside, all red and white covering a long, cylindrical object and then I knew. I recognized it from the times of my sorrows and distress.

I knew the gift I had received from one so dear to me and so magical in his ways. I could not believe I had once used it, and cherished it and then in the busy-ness of life I had forgotten it.

I went back to the day of the shoes and the sogginess of life, the despair and tears inside and out. As I limped home I found him. Or he found me. In a doorway, under a sign which shown with light and color he was there with his smile and laughter. He seemed to know me. He beckoned me through to warmth and joy. There among friendly faces, in my stocking feet, torn and squishy, I laughed. Many were the blessings of one act of kindness and the gift given to me and to others around me.

How could I have neglected it all these years. As my life grew good and rich with love and warm it had sat alone and unused. It could have made such a difference to so many.

I gingerly removed it from the box and held it up before my eyes. There it was, my magic wand. The wand that could turn tears to smiles, pain to ease, sorrow to joy. My wand that could heal souls and bring sunshine to the lives of all around it.

I secured it in my trembling hand and rushed to find those who needed to be touched by its true spirit and light.

Judith Allen