Open-Toed Shoe

She stepped out of the door of her apartment stubbing her toe against the door jamb. "Ouch!," she exclaimed.  Her open-toed shoe provided no protection against her clumsiness. Raging pain climbed steadily up her ankle to her calf. She sat down in the hallway, her eyes filling with tears, and her toe swelling with blood.  It hurt.  It hurt really bad.

"Way to go Kate," she said out loud.  That phrase suddenly tracked through her mind to a place in her heart.  It was what her husband had always said to her before he said, "Its all your fault."  That was what he said the day he left her standing in the wine aisle at the grocery store to pursue, what was it, oh yeah, "Life on his own terms without her as a hindrance."  It hurt.  It hurt really bad.

She was able to get the part-time job at the flower shop to keep herself afloat.  He cleaned out the bank account.  In the process, he cleaned out her hope as well.

Sitting in the hallway, toenail bleeding, heart ripped to shreds, she cried.  Dropping her purse to the floor, she came to the end of herself.  Inside she spoke softly, "Life is hell.  Maybe death brings relief."

Click, clack.  Click, clack.  Someone was coming up the wooden stairwell.  Click, clack. Click, clack.  A little face appeared just above the top stair. Big brown eyes stared at Kate with warmth and curiosity.  "Hello, why are you on the floor?," a little voice said. Kate spoke slowly trying to get herself together, "I stubbed my toe." "Owwchy, " the little girl said wrinkling her nose, "What's your name?"  "I'm Kate."  "Let me help you up Kate."  The little girl reached out her hand.

As Kate reached out to grab her hand light flooded the hallway from the window.  Then she asked, "What's your name?" The little girl said simply, "My name is Hope." Kate smiled taking in the light as it flooded her broken heart.  "Hope," she said to herself, "that is such a beautiful name."