I was on my usual subway ride home, zoning out like everyone else, when I noticed this boy get on at the next stop. What stood out wasn’t the backpack or the messy hair—it was that he was barefoot, holding one tattered sneaker and wearing a single mismatched sock. He sat down between two strangers and tried to act like he didn’t notice all the glances.
People can be weird about things like that. Some look away, some stare, but most just pretend they don’t see. But the man sitting on the other side of the boy kept looking down, then back at a bag at his feet. I could tell he was debating something.
After a few stops, the man leaned over, cleared his throat, and said quietly, “Hey, I just bought these for my son, but they might fit you better. He’s got a pair already anyway.” The boy looked up, surprised and a little suspicious, but the man just handed over the brand-new blue sneakers, tags still on.
