But Sir, I Have Holes in My Shoes

By Cyndi Miller

In a parallel comparison between God’s pursuit of broken people and a humble businessman’s aim to help a homeless girl stand on her own two feet, this short novel takes the reader into the lives of two completely different societal classes and melds them together in the most unusual way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jun 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781973666189

Cyndi Miller

Having served as a missionary in the Philippines, Mexico, South Sudan, and here in the United States; author Cyndi Miller combines her experiences and those of whom she served and worked among to create vivid stories to tell the world of their life’s journeys, hardships and victories. Having overcome her own struggles with childhood poverty, learning disabilities, poor eyesight and pursuit of faith, hope and love; she writes with passion and conviction. Cyndi’s ultimate hope is to lead people to a deeper understanding and appreciation of her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, through her literary work.

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Copyright © 2019 Cyndi Miller.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

WestBow Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

ISBN: 978-1-9736-6617-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-6616-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-6618-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019908089

WestBow Press rev. date: 6/25/2019

My story and Acknowledgements

THE JOURNEY TO WRITE AND FINISH MY BOOK has been long but worth telling about it! When I was 30 years old (now 38) I took a placement test for college and found out that my reading, writing, and math skills were all within elementary levels. This didn’t surprise me because I had learning disabilities growing up. I was one of the unfortunate students to fall through the cracks of the system. They passed me year after year without even knowing that I couldn’t read well at all. As an adult, I struggled to make ends meet because there weren’t many jobs I could do with such low reading and math abilities. I finally decided I had to face my biggest fear and obstacles in life and go to college. After teaching myself, I finally realized that God’s grace was truly sufficient and that where there is a will there is a way.

It was the seed of my first college English Professor from El Paso Community College Terri Mann that grew into my first book. As I was walking out on the last day of the semester, she told me to thank her in my first novel that I write. I remember laughing and asking if she really read any of our work because my spelling and grammar was atrocious. She smiled at me and said, I did read your work and that is precisely why I am saying this to you. Not everyone who writes is a writer but you, you’re a writer. She told me that I could get an editor to help with the spelling and grammar but that I had a talent and I needed to make something from it. So here I am, thanking you Professor Terri Mann! I also want to thank a few other teachers and mentors that got me here as well. To my mother, (I truly couldn’t have done this with out you). Mrs. Mathers, Mrs. Whitcomb, (my elementary special ed teachers, to whom I still have great gratitude towards for planting those seeds of hope and encouragement). Patsy Lozano, Francisco Peralta, Jim McGraw, (my friends and mentors) and Bishop Otis Cobbins (my pastor and inspiration in the faith). Each of you were like stepping stones that lead me to this amazing accomplishment! I also can not forget all the skillful people such as my rock star editors Melanie Scott and Katie Duroe and the many others that helped me produce this final product!

I can now say that I actually used my God-given talent despite the many obstacles! This is why I titled the book the way I did. As much as I hate to admit it, most of my personal and quiet time in prayer is spent telling God about all my holes in my shoes so to speak. I used the many stories of homeless men and women that I have sat and talked to along with bits of myself to create the diverse characters, plot, and storyline. I pray you all enjoy reading it as much as I did creating it. With that being said - I give you But Sir, There Are Holes In My Shoes.

Contents

Chapter 1       Misunderstood

Chapter 2       A Trip Down Memory Lane

Chapter 3       Friend or Foe?

Chapter 4       Back to Reality

Chapter 5       Trust That the Morning Will Come

Chapter 6       You Can’t Undo My Life Story

Chapter 7       Time to Let Go

Chapter 8       Can We Talk?

Chapter 9       Why Aren’t You Crazy?

Chapter 10     Don’t Know Why but I’m Thankful

Chapter 11     Don’t Look Behind You; You’re Not Heading That Way

Chapter 12     Not Only Can You, You Just Did!

Chapter 13     A Broken Mirror

Chapter 14     How I Really Feel

Chapter 15     Death by Butterflies

Chapter 16     Just Give Me Time

Chapter 17     Life Raft in a Suitcase

Chapter 18     Hungry, Tired, and Tempted

Chapter 19     It’s Yours and Mine

Chapter 20     Pearl of Great Price

Chapter 1

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Misunderstood

HONK! HOOONK! COME ON! THE LIGHT HAD barely turned green. Get out of the way you bum! Em stepped back onto the pavement. The young girl, about to give her a fistful of change, pulled back her hand and rolled up the window. The girl’s face underwent a sudden change from a pleasant smile to a look of guilt, a change that Em was all too familiar with.

Only a dollar away from a good night’s sleep Em, just blow it off, she whispered to herself. The cars zoomed by as she turned to sit down on an old, beat-up milk crate she had found in a dumpster on her way to the bridge she often slept under. She had just found the spot in which she was currently standing earlier in the week and had come to really like it. She felt safe there. She found the place had the potential to make enough money to eat and even stay in a motel room for at least one night a week. It was in a well-populated area of Austin, Texas, next to a local HEB grocery store frequented by young students going to the college less than a mile away. Students seemed to be more giving of their spare change than the businessmen and women in the city. To find a good place with no other homeless people was not an easy task. She would have to be up and walking to the spot just as the sun rose to get there before anyone else. However, to Em, it was worth it. Giving up her restless sleep for a spot like this was something she did happily. Besides, without an alarm clock, she had to train her body’s inner clock to wake herself up at a consistent time. After a while, it became a habit for her and being up that early was no longer a problem.

Just as her legs began to feel relief from the standing she did all day, a local policeman pulled into the gas station across the street. Em knew the officer would be making his way toward her. This would lessen her chance at making that last dollar for the motel room she was saving to get later that night. There were few professions that left her with such mixed feelings as the police did. She knew they weren’t all bad, but she could never tell what she was going to get. Some of them saw the homeless as people just trying to survive while others saw them as a nuisance. She knew full well why they thought such things, having to deal with them on a daily basis herself. However, rare as it was, she knew that not all homeless people were bums and not all cops were out to get them. It was hard to keep this frame of mind, though, after she had been wrongly accused and falsely lied about by the cops on more than one occasion. If only she could get them to look past where she was standing and living. Maybe then they would see who she really was. If they would just talk to her and stop making accusations disguised as questions they would find out that she had never even had a drink in all her twenty-six years of life. They would find that she never stole anything and was a very peaceful person, yet she could not escape the prejudice around the community she lived amongst.

Em stood up quickly, grabbing the blue milk crate from under her and stuffed her torn-up sleeping bag inside it. She was hoping this would cause the officer now crossing the street to go back to his car and leave her alone, but unfortunately, this was not the case.

Ho there, young lady, where’s the fire?

Turning, she stopped and shrugged her shoulders.

Do you have ID on you? he asked.

No.

What’s your name?

Emily, she replied softly. After a slight pause and a look at his face, she thought maybe this cop was a good one. Maybe this one would let her go in peace. Taking a chance, she spoke up and said, Look, I don’t want any trouble, just let me leave in peace, please.

As she turned to walk away he raised his voice and said, HEY! I didn’t say you could go. I need to ask you a few questions. Annoyed, she stopped, put the milk crate down and turned to look at him. Where are you heading, Emily?

Anywhere but here I guess, she said, flippantly.

Hey! No need to be disrespectful! Now, I’ve got a job to do and if you don’t cooperate things aren’t going to end well for you! Do you understand me, young lady?

Em rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. I’ve lived in the streets more than half my life. It’s not like I don’t know how things could end for me.

All I’m doing is trying to help you out here, okay?

Help me out! she yelled. How are you helping me out? By taking my money? That isn’t helping me!

Their eyes locked as if they were in a staring contest. The officer cleared