
I'll be participating in some wonderful programs and events this fall.


There is a place, two connected cemeteries, that separates the college dorms from the field house where sporting events take place. At night, you can walk around it, staying to the well-lit road, or cut through it–if you dare.
It's a place not unlike a scary movie or a carnival funhouse, where couples draw closer, hold hands for the first time, or even stop to embrace; and most definitely, among the hundreds of silent witnesses, share a little known fact about their childhood.
A long time ago, before we were born, before there was anything, there was nothing.
Just a shoemaker.
He never slept because there was no moon to tell him it was bedtime.
He only made shoes to a clock with no time.
He made all kinds of shoes.
Red ones and yellow ones, pink ones and blue ones.
He made ballet shoes and fire fighting shoes, space shoes and riding shoes.
He made high heels and low heels and no heels.
He made warm shoes for cold weather, and cool shoes for warm weather.
He even made dry shoes for wet weather.
He made presidents’ shoes and soccer shoes, doctor shoes, and basketball shoes.
And when it was time for a child to be born, he gave them a very special pair of shoes he made just for them.
But before the child was allowed to wear the shoes, the shoemaker would ask for a promise…
Promise, he said, to wear the shoes to travel the world, discover new treasures, play nicely with other people, build new things, and take care of old things.
And when the children got too big for their shoes, the shoemaker asked them to do one more thing.
He asked them to find a child who needed a pair of shoes, a very special pair of shoes, and give them the shoes off their feet.
Where will your shoes take you?