In the story of Cinderella, she was in a hurry to leave the palace as she was told to be out by midnight. Running away from the grand staircase, she left her glass slippers and rushed home. She safely arrived home but lost one of her glass slippers. In the end, the prince found the owner and married Cinderella and they lived happily ever after.
In my short walk at the park, I noticed two pairs of slippers left by someone. They must be from one of the park's workers having a break or purposely left because they were already broken. Whatever the reason, the slippers were reminders that it had served its purpose.
There was one morning I had to be in the city to attend a conference and so I took the Skytrain. While queuing, the doors opened and out came hordes of ladies and men. That very short moment gave way to hundreds of walking shoes. The sound of their pitter patter were like rhythm of drums and sticks. It was musicality at a surprising level. The momentum ended once the people dispersed. The range of sounds became deafening silence. The shoes offered some musical transition.
When I attended a school celebration one night and we had to be in the library, it is customary for us to leave our shoes before climbing the stairs. When it was time for me to leave, my shoes were missing. I walked barefoot, donning only black socks, searching for the culprit. I walked in circles till I found the man who started to flee. He was apologetic saying he thought my shoes were his. My pair of black shoes weaved a story.
It is not important how many slippers we have worn through our lifetime or the length of their use. The importance of wearing one supersedes the importance of each and every step we make. What matter is the was we reached someone from walking a distance. What makes it more valuable are the footprints we leave when we touch people's lives. What makes life an adventure is not the shoes or slippers we wear, but the steps we make to reach our destiny.