[ RF ] Years ago when he was destitute , a young woman gave him a pair of shoes and a warm meal . He loved those shoes and the memory that accompanied them . Now , wealthy and successful , he decides to thank her .

The cobblestone path was more worn than he remembered it, the stones shiny and smooth from all the footsteps. The sun was tucking behind the western hills, and the sounds and smells of supper snuck out of the old buildings around him. He found his steps locked in time with the rhythm of a distant guitar, an old song that reminded Anders of all the time he had spent sleeping in alleys and doorways in this town. 
 
 The laces were new, the wooden soles had been repaired more times than he could recall, and the leather had been patched so often that it'd be fair to say the shoes he wore now were little more than a descendent of the pair he had been given here all those years ago. They were still precious to him. He still remembered when these shoes were a little too big, and a little too formal for a man as young and wild as him. 
 
 It was n't far now, three or four shops down and on the left. The unmistakable aroma of freshly baked bread hit Anders and he fought hard to hold back tears. It had been a years but it still felt like yesterday. He collected himself and moved forwards. The first thing he noticed through the glass window was her auburn hair, the setting sun catching small flecks of gray and golden woven into it now. He'd forgotten how small this place was, little more than a counter and a kitchen. The small bell hung by the door chimed as he stepped in. Her back was turned, she was idly kneading dough and humming a pleasant song. 
 
 `` Excuse me, Miss. Are you still open?'' 
 
 When she turned, she was greeted with a man dressed in a fine suit. She did n't recognize him, but he had a warm smile and a small parcel in his hand. 
 
 `` Yes, though I'm afraid most of the good bread has been bought. Perhaps you'd come back tomorrow morning?'' 
 
 From the kitchen in the back, a boy stumbled out; all angles, elbows, and knees. The man smiled at the boy. 
 
 `` Your name is Erik, is it not?'' 
 
 Erik looked up at the man, skepticism in his eyes. 
 
 `` Yes sir, my name is Erik.'' 
 
 The man stepped towards the counter and handed the parcel to the boy, and sat down on a nearby chair. He slowly started unlacing his shoes. 
 
 `` Erik, you may not know this because he passed before you were born, but your Father was a good man.'' 
 
 Anna froze. She knew those shoes. She absentmindedly started turning the ring around her finger. 
 
 `` You'd be wise to follow his example. But even moreso, you'd be wiser to follow the example of your mother. A woman of courage, integrity, and great kindness. When I was young, and had nothing, she gave me what no one else did. Dignity.'' 
 
 It all came back to her in a rush. Her husband had died on a Thursday in the war, leaving her pregnant and alone. For months, she was inconsolable. Still, she persisted. She kept the shop they had built together running on her own, she struggled and toiled and made sure their dream would stay alive. One night behind the shop, she found a homeless boy rummaging through her trash. His bare feet were cracked and bleeding, and he was gaunt and covered in dirt. 
 
 `` You see, she invited me to share dinner with her when I had no one and nothing. We only spoke briefly, frankly I was too hungry to make much conversation. She also gave me these.'' 
 
 He placed the shoes up on the counter. 
 
 `` She said to me that these shoes had belonged to her husband, your father, and that she had no need for them anymore. She said the man that owned them was a man of character, honesty, and sincerity. I have done my best to keep those values close to my heart. These shoes took me out of this town, and into the world. I think it's only appropriate I return these to you, Erik. That you might have something to remember your Father by. I know this might seem an unusual gesture, but it's something I feel the need to do.'' 
 
 Anders placed a few coins on the countertop, grabbed a small loaf of bread, and turned to walk out of the shop barefoot. 
 
 `` In that parcel is enough money to send you to whatever school you may choose to go to, anywhere in the world. I hope it is payment enough for the gift your Mother gave me.'' 
 
 The cobblestones caught the light from the light posts that lined the street, and Anders walked them barefoot once again. He took a deep breath of the cool evening air in, and smiled.
