Originally broadcast on CHED radio - Date unknown

I was born and raised in a small town. There never was more than two or 300 souls in that village and so we all got to know one another pretty well. Although it's been a good many years since I left, I like to go back every now and then; walk the main street; pass the ball diamond and maybe visit the old fairgrounds where we had the annual country stock show and rodeo. On my last visit, I ran into an old school buddy of mine and he seemed to have done pretty well for himself. He bought up a lot of good land in the area and was living pretty high on the hog. I asked him about his father. He told me the old gentleman had passed away some years back, and then he said, almost apologetically, "dad didn't leave much. He was only a shoemaker." I looked this fellow right in the eyes and I felt great pity for him because I remember his father. I remember how he'd gather up every stray kid in the neighborhood and take us all on a picnic on a warm Sunday. He used to show up at the ball diamond after the evening meal and he’d show us how to hold the bat, and how to pitch a fastball and slide into home plate like a big leaguer. I remember once he built six kites in one afternoon and somehow dug up enough string so we could have a contest to see who is Kate could go with the highest. He carried a big old jackknife and he'd make bows and arrows out of willow branches off a big tree at the back of his lot. One summer evening a little four-year-old boy wandered away from his farm home on the outskirts of town and the old gentleman stayed up for three days and nights organizing search parties, beating the woods, making sandwiches and coffee for the hungry searchers, doing everything possible to help in a time of need. I'm all the town folks, he was the only one who stuck it out without a break until the young lad was found. He led the scout troop at the local church and on Sunday you find him in the choir loft singing his heart out in praise of the Lord even though his voice left something to be desired. He raised two sons; put them both through college, and four lovely girls bore his name. And his boy said to me, "dad didn't leave much, he was only a shoemaker." No, he didn't leave much in terms of dollars and cents or property, things you can see and get your hands on. But he left his mark on the whole community through his kindness, his gentleness, his love, his understanding, his compassion, his plain old fashion goodness. I looked at his son and said "only a shoemaker? Mr., your father was some man, some man indeed. It's a pity you didn't really know him.”