A CHANGE OF HEART
During his journey to financial and business success, he was
accompanied by his socialite wife, Elizabeth. Over the years the couple had five children, who at the time of this
story are 8, 10, 12, 14, and 16. By
their ages (and also their names, such as Mary and Luke) you’d think that
Mathias Pace was a Roman Catholic, but Pace had no interest in religion. The only one of the Ten Commandments he held
in high respect was the first. In the
case of this commandment, the “me” in “Though shalt have no other gods before
me” was Pace himself. He was the god of
his own universe.
By age 42, Pace was bored with his work as CEO of the
company he founded. He therefore sold it for a very handsome profit and began
collecting board chairmanships, all business and finance related. It is at this
point in Mathias Pace’s life that our story begins.
Sprank was a shoe repairman. He maintained a successful small business for many years, not because he was a skilled shoe repairman, which he was, but because when a customer brought in shoes for a particular repair, Otto Sprank not only completed the requested repair, but fixed anything else that was wrong with the shoes, often hidden problems. Customers always found that the shoes they had brought in both looked and felt better than they did when they were new.
One day, Mathias Pace came to Otto Sprank’s shop, ostensibly
to have some shoes repaired. With five
children, he came in quite often. Of
course, his real reason for coming in was to talk things over with Sprank. “Sprank,”
he said in his very commanding style, “do you have any children?”
“Mr. Pace, you can see from my face that I’m not exactly
what they nowadays call a ‘chick magnet.’ I’ve never been a ladies man. I do have lots of nieces and nephews. I attribute the fact that they all seem to
love me and enjoy seeing me to the fact that I got to know them before the
world taught them who to be attracted to and who not to be attracted to. I know quite well you have five.”
“Yes, I do." Pace puffed out his chest a bit. "Well,
Sprank, my oldest daughter Mary just turned sixteen. About a month before her sixteenth birthday
she asked me if she could have a sweet sixteen birthday party. I had no idea what she was talking
about. Of course, her mother and I have
always given our children presents on their birthdays and have let them pick
out a cake for dessert on the day of the birthday. The idea of birthday parties has never set
right with me. So, I said no. She said she understood. However, ever since her birthday, she’s been
rather sullen and distant. She’s never
been that way. She’s always been
cheerful, obedient, kind – a veritable girl scout. She’s been such a good role model for her
younger siblings. They take their cues from her. She’s still obedient and kind, but not so
cheerful. She’s not the kind to pout or act up; she knows that’s simply not
done in the Pace home.”
“Does she have a boyfriend, Mr. Pace? Is she sweet on someone?”
“Sprank, she’s only sixteen. She hasn’t made her debut yet!
No, she sticks to her studies and to her hobbies. She enjoys painting. There’ll be no
boyfriends for a while.”
“Mr. Pace, with all due respect, sometimes boys and girls in
their teen years do get sweet on each other. Sometimes, they just like doing
things together, like bowling or horseback riding – things like that. I would wager that she wanted to have that
party, not for herself, but to have a boy she is sweet on come to her house,
but not be pressured by coming alone or perhaps even knowing she likes him.”
“Sprank, that’s absurd!
Mary is not some starry-eyed, love-sick little girl.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Pace. Starry-eyed, love-sick little girls are one
of the delights of creation. It’s a
special part of a girl’s life.”
“Well, not Mary’s, I assure you.”
“Mr. Pace, you might just want to have that party and see if
she seems to look at anyone in particular over the course of the evening. This is just a little shoe repairman with no
experience rearing children, so you just do what you think is best. Perhaps, Mary is just going through a ‘sullen’ phase. That’s a possibility.”
Mathias pace walked out of Otto Sprank’s shop incensed that
his daughter could possibly be a starry-eyed, love-sick girl. He then went home and asked her if she would
like a party. She was thrilled with the
idea.
At the party, which was attended by about fourteen of Mary’s
friends and classmates, Pace kept his distance. He stayed in his study for the most part. After a little bit, however,
his wife came to the study and told her husband that Mary wanted to dance with
him.
“Dance with me?
Nonsense! A silly party is one
thing, but I’ll only dance with Mary at her wedding.”
Nonetheless, Mathias Pace went outside to the large terrace where the party was taking place. “My
gosh, it’s impossible to tell who is dancing with whom. They’re like a flock of geese flapping their
wings and hopping around!”
“Daddy, thanks so much for coming down to dance with me,”
Mary said. On cue, the music changed to
a slow waltz, and Mathias Pace found himself in the spotlight with his
daughter. For once, Mathias Pace found
himself thinking purely of someone beside himself. It was a special moment that neither would
forget.
The weeks following the party saw Mary return to her
cheerful self. Mathias Pace even gave
her permission to take a driver’s education class at school. He let her practice driving with him in the
passenger seat. Mathias Pace was not
used to being a passenger, except of course when he was being chauffeured
someplace.
Mathias Pace eventually found himself back at
Otto Sprank’s shop with some shoes that “needed” to be repaired.
“Sprank, your suggestion of the party for my daughter was
right on the money. Mary’s back like she used to be.”
“I hope she’s even better than she used to be!” Otto Sprank
replied.
As they talked, an apparently homeless man walked into the
shop. Otto Sprank smiled as he saw the
man enter, and he came from behind the counter to give the man a hearty
handshake.
“Mr. Pace, I’d like you to meet my friend Carl.” Carl offered Mathias Pace his hand, but Pace
backed away and refused to shake the man’s hand. Otto Sprank said nothing about this at the
time.
“Carl,” Otto Sprank exclaimed, “you’re a sight for sore
eyes!”
“Thanks, Otto,” Carl replied,
“you’re looking pretty dapper yourself!” They both laughed. Neither man would ever be called "dapper."
“Carl, I was thinking about you the other day. I found this pair of shoes back in my store
room. They had your name written all
over them. Let me go get them to see if
you like them.” Otto Sprank then went to
the back to retrieve the shoes.
Carl attempted to initiate a conversation with Mathias Pace.
“Mr. Pace, I think you’re a really successful business man from what I hear.”
“I’ve done okay,” was Mathias Pace’s curt reply. He obviously had no attention of chatting
with this street person. In fact, he was
getting ready to leave when Otto Sprank came back out with a pair of high-top shoes.
“Oh, Mr. Pace, don’t go. I want you to see how spiffy Carl looks in these shoes.” He presented the shoes to Carl, who sat down,
removed his ratty old shoes, and replaced them with the new ones. The new ones were hardly stylish, but they
did look great on Carl.
“Well, Mr. Pace, what do you think?”
“Well, Mr. Pace, what do you think?”
“I think they look just fine. I’m afraid you two gentlemen will have to
excuse me. I’m needed at home.”
“Don’t leave just yet, Mr. Pace.”
“I’ve got to go, Otto,” Carl announced. “You know, places to go and people to
see! These shoes are dandies!”
“And thank you for these shoes, Carl. I can’t wait to start whipping them back into
shape.” With that, Otto Sprank gave Carl
a big hug and shook his hand. “Don’t be
a stranger. You’ve always got a friend
here, Carl. And thank you for serving
our country!”
“Goodbye Otto. Good
evening, Mr. Pace It was nice meeting you.” Mathias Pace said nothing.
Carl left the shop. Mathias Pace for once in his life had an awkward look on his face.Then Otto Sprank gave him a tongue lashing he
would never forget.
“Mr. Pace, I know you’re a big shot and all that. But how in hell can you call yourself a man? What you just did was unconscionable. I don’t care if you never set foot in my shop again!”
To add to the awkwardness, Mathias Pace now looked
astonished. No one had ever spoken to
him in that way. “Listen Sprank, I know
in your little world what I might have done, or not done, might have seemed
rude. You realize I could buy out your
little business in a heartbeat!”
“Of course, you could, Mr. Pace! You could buy out my little business, but you
can’t buy out my heart and my soul. They’re not for sale at any price.
Do you know who that man was that you just thumbed your nose at.”
“He’s one of hundreds I see every day littering the
streets. He’s one of the lazy, drug and
alcohol addicted losers who keep looking for the bottom but never seem to find
it.”
It was all Otto Sprank could do to keep from taking his
little hands from grabbing Mathias pace and throwing him out the door.
“That ‘loser,’ Mr. Sprank, was one of my best friends in high school. His mother died when he was only four years old. His father was a tyrant and a bully. For his safety, Carl was placed in the hands of social services. He was then shuffled through a series of foster homes, some decent and some indecent. When we were in high school, both he and I would get kidded because of the odd look of our faces. Kids called us the ‘bumbly twins.’ I used to get so mad, but Carl just laughed it off. After high school, he joined the army and went to Vietnam. He served with distinction and was even awarded several medals for distinguished service in combat, including a Purple Heart. That ‘loser’ returned home to a country that turned its back on him and countless others. He suffered from what is now called PTSD. You know what that is, Mr. Pace. It’s ‘Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.’ Carl saw things in Vietnam that you wouldn’t want to experience in your worst nightmares. That ‘loser’ became addicted to pain killers that were prescribed to him by physicians. He could no longer just laugh things off. He spiraled down. When I first saw him after he came back to town, I barely recognized him. He was a shell of himself.”
“That ‘loser,’ Mr. Sprank, was one of my best friends in high school. His mother died when he was only four years old. His father was a tyrant and a bully. For his safety, Carl was placed in the hands of social services. He was then shuffled through a series of foster homes, some decent and some indecent. When we were in high school, both he and I would get kidded because of the odd look of our faces. Kids called us the ‘bumbly twins.’ I used to get so mad, but Carl just laughed it off. After high school, he joined the army and went to Vietnam. He served with distinction and was even awarded several medals for distinguished service in combat, including a Purple Heart. That ‘loser’ returned home to a country that turned its back on him and countless others. He suffered from what is now called PTSD. You know what that is, Mr. Pace. It’s ‘Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.’ Carl saw things in Vietnam that you wouldn’t want to experience in your worst nightmares. That ‘loser’ became addicted to pain killers that were prescribed to him by physicians. He could no longer just laugh things off. He spiraled down. When I first saw him after he came back to town, I barely recognized him. He was a shell of himself.”
“Sprank, I apologize.
I had no idea.”
“And you have no idea about most of those people you call
lazy, drug and alcohol addicted losers. They’re human beings, Mr. Pace.
Human beings! Damn you!"
“Those shoes looked nice on him, Sprank.”
“His name is Carl. Good evening, Mr. Pace.”
Mathias Pace began walking the streets looking for
Carl. He began to see the homeless in a
different way. He became ashamed of
himself. He could never find Carl.
One evening, at dinner, Mathias Pace’s son Luke began
holding his stomach and complaining of pain.Normally, Mathias Pace would send the boy upstairs to his room. This time, however, he asked his son to come
over to him and he felt the boy’s stomach and asked him where it seemed to
hurt. When he touched a certain point,
his son winced in pain.
Mathias Pace had taught his children not to be whiners, and to just “suck it up” when they felt an ache or pain. He knew his son would not complain if it weren’t serious. He then called the family doctor who told Mathias Pace to take his son directly to the hospital. They arrived at the hospital and were greeted by the doctor. Luke was examined and sent directly to surgery. Mathias Pace was waiting for his son when he was brought into his hospital room. When his son Luke awoke, the first person he saw was his father.
Mathias Pace had taught his children not to be whiners, and to just “suck it up” when they felt an ache or pain. He knew his son would not complain if it weren’t serious. He then called the family doctor who told Mathias Pace to take his son directly to the hospital. They arrived at the hospital and were greeted by the doctor. Luke was examined and sent directly to surgery. Mathias Pace was waiting for his son when he was brought into his hospital room. When his son Luke awoke, the first person he saw was his father.
“Luke, you’re going to be just fine.You had appendicitis. You know, I’ve never known anyone who had
appendicitis and had to have their appendix removed. How are you feeling?”
“Groggy.”
“Sure. You’re still under the anaesthetic. While I was waiting
during your surgery, I went to the hospital gift shop and found this book. I know you like science and thought you might
like this book on ecology.”
“Wow, Dad,” Luke exclaimed as he looked at the book. “We’ve
been studying ecology in class this term. This is great! Thanks so much!”
Mathias Pace brought his son home to a party of family and
some of his close friends. Parties were
becoming more a part of the Pace routine.
It had been some time since Mathias Pace darkened the doors
of Otto Sprank’s shop. He walked by
often and looked in, but never stopped. Sprank sometimes looked up, but never so much as waved. He certainly didn’t smile the way he used
to. One day, Mathias Pace decided he needed to mend some fences.
“Well, Mr. Pace. Long time no see. What can I do for you? I don’t think I’ve any shoes that belong to
you or your family at this time.”
“Otto, I came in to apologize for the horrible way I treated
your friend several months ago. I still
feel just awful.”
“Well, you should, Mr. Pace. He was not only my friend, but he gave the best part of himself for you
and for me. That was what I found
offensive.”
“I know, Otto – and please call me Mathias—I hope you can
accept my apology.”
“It’s Carl you need to apologize to.”
“I’ve tried to locate him, but to no avail.”
“And you won’t. He’s
dead.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes. He died two
weeks ago.There was the briefest
announcement in the paper – for a veteran and a hero who served his country with
great distinction. He was buried in a
pauper’s grave.”
“That’s horrible. He
needs to be treated better than that. Is
there anything I can do?”
“What’s done is done, Mathias. How’s your family, Mathias?”
“They’re just fine.My son Luke had a bout with appendicitis, but he’s now back to normal.”
“And how’s your youngest child?”
“You mean,um, John?”
“You had to think for a second of his name, didn’t you
Mathias. The last-born child, especially
in a large family, can think of himself or herself as a sort of an
afterthought. They can think of
themselves as the weakest and the slowest. They’re always too young to do the things their older siblings can do
and they feel like it will always be that way.”
“John seems just fine, Otto, but thank you for asking about
him.” Mathias Pace immediately went home and went to his son
John’s room.”
“How are things going for you, John?”
“Fine. Just fine.”
“I was thinking, John. How would you like to go to a baseball game this Saturday?” Mathias pace knew that his son loved
baseball, but that he was not a very good player because of his weak eyes.
That Saturday, father and son went to the baseball
game. It was a local, minor league game,
but it meant the world to John. After
the game, Mathias Pace had made arrangements for John to get a soda and
sandwich with one of the players.“You know, John ,” the player said, “ I
understand from your dad that you think that your weak eyes will keep you from
ever being very good at baseball. “
“I guess so,” John replied.
“I’ve always had weak eyes. I was always the last one chosen to play. But I loved baseball. I worked hard at it. I’m not in the majors yet, but I plan to
be. And even if I don’t make it, I still
get to play the game I love. Do you love
to play?”
“Oh yes!”
“Then keep at it. Practice on your own. Don’t wait for the regular practice to get out there. I’ll bet your father will find
the time to throw some balls to you.
Right, Mr. Pace?”
“You bet.”
That very afternoon, Mathias and his son John went to the
back yard and threw the ball at each other. Luke soon came out and joined in. John didn’t make the Little League cut that year, but he kept practicing
and going to games, often with Mathias Pace by his side.
Mathias Pace called his family together.“I think this is the first time I’ve ever
called a family meeting like this.The
reason for this meeting is that, about two months ago, a truly great individual
died. He was not given the respect he
deserved, and I want to do something about that.”
“What does that have to do with all of us, dad?” Mary asked.
“I want to throw a sort of party, really more like a
reception, in his honor.I’d like you
all to help out, but only if you want to.” The family was in a bit of shock that they were being given permission
to bow out.
“And oh, there’s one other thing. This man, though as I said was a great
individual, was also homeless. He had
lots of problems that were not of his own making. Nearly all of his friends are also
homeless. This means that the reception
will be for them.
“Ooh, dad,” ten-year-old Ruth moaned, “homeless people are
so smelly and just creepy.”
“Yeah, dad,” fourteen-year-old Timothy observed, “We’ve
always been told to stay away from these people. Now we’re being asked to help host a reception
for them. I don’t understand.”
“It’s hard to explain, Timothy, but it’s something I need to
do. If you don’t want to help out, you
don’t have to. Think about it. The reception if scheduled for next Sunday
afternoon.”
That Sunday, Mathias Pace came downstairs to leave for the
church reception hall. His wife and four
of his children were waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. “Mary went on ahead, Dad,” Luke said. “She
wanted to drive.”
When they got to the church hall, they found over a hundred
people lined up outside. Although they
were obviously gritty looking, to say the least, they did all seemed to
have made the effort to look their best.What Mathias Pace noticed immediately was that they all had on nicely
polished shoes.
The family went inside, where they joined Mary Pace. They were introduced to the church
minister. Soon, Otto Sprank joined the
group.
“Otto, I couldn’t help but notice the shoes of everyone
outside. How in the world did you manage to get all those shoes ready for those
people?”
“First of all, Mathias, this is a wonderful thing you’re
doing to honor Carl. You’ll see he
had some wonderful friends.”
“I’m really looking forward to it.”
The reception began, and the Pace family all pitched in to
make everyone feel welcome and wanted. It was as though all Carl’s friends were being honored along with Carl. Several of them spoke about him. One had been a school teacher, one a dentist,
one a banker. There were several
veterans. A couple of them wore medals and ribbons. Mathias Pace invited his wife
and children to mingle and meet the guests, but only if they wanted to.
During the weeks following the reception, Mathias Pace astonished
everybody by abruptly resigning from all the boards he chaired. He then went to one of the soup kitchens and
asked to speak to the director.
“Mr. Pace,” the kitchen supervisor said, “it’s an honor to
have you here. How can I help you?”
"It’s my honor to be here. I want to help out, if I can.”
“Well, Mr. Pace, our board is completely filled at this time
and the head of the board is so beloved by all, the idea of having someone new
come in would be quite stunning.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be on the board, and certainly not
chair it. I want to make soup.”
“Make soup? Well, how
are you at peeling onions?”
“I’ve been told that I never cry at anything. An onion certainly won’t get the best of
Mathias Pace.”
Soon after, the entire Pace family, each of his or her own
accord, was helping prepare and serve meals to the homeless at the kitchen. It would become a cherished
even for each one.
“Otto?”
“Yes, Mathias.”
Mathias Pace had once again gone to Otto Sprank’s shop. He had long ago abandoned the need the bring
shoes with him.
“Otto, I was wondering if you need an apprentice?”
“Are you telling me, Matthias, that I’m getting too old for this and you
think I should be training a successor?”
“Not at all.”
“So, you’re thinking about having one of your brood come in
to see how working people make a living?”
“I want to apprentice with you.”
Stunned, Otto Sprank then began to laugh profusely.
“Obviously, Otto, you must not think I’ve got what it takes
to be a shoe repairman. I think I can do
a decent job. I might never be as good
as you, but I think I can handle the work.”
“Oh, Matthias, I have no doubt you can handle the work. Sure, we’ll give it a try. Now you know, Matthias, that I do more than
repair shoes. When someone comes in with
shoes in their hands, I look at them first, and the shoes second. They’re much more important than the
shoes. Take, Mrs. Bradley. She is, shall we say, not petite. And yet, she loves to wear these wisp-like
shoes that can’t possibly support her. I
manage to get those shoes to the point where she feels as though she were
walking on air. She could walk three
miles in those shoes with nary a sore or swollen foot to her name. She feels like the angel that she is on the
inside. When a customer comes in, I
always make an outline of their bare feet. I study their feet. I’m certainly
no podiatrist, but I know feet, and I know people. What they say they need done to their shoes
is usually the least of the problems.”
“That’s why I want to apprentice with you, Otto. You don’t just repair shoes, you repair
people.”
“Not in the least, Matthias. I don’t repair people at all. I
just do a little to help them feel like they want to feel on the inside. That’s why I’m in the business.”
“Okay, Otto, why did you laugh so hard when I said I wanted
to apprentice with you. You say I can do
the work. I guess you must think I’m not
temperamentally suited for this line of work, especially for what you really
do.”
“Once again, Matthias, no. The reason I laughed is that a long, long time ago, when I was just
getting started, your father – a wonderful man by the way -- asked me if you might apprentice with
me. He said he would pay the
salary, if I would just give you the experience. I thought about it and said yes. I was very young then, you know. Do you
remember what you said to your father when he spoke with you about his plans
for you?”
“I can’t say as I do. I doubt I was very enthusiastic.”
“That’s an understatement.Your father came back to me and told me that you had declined the
opportunity. He told me that you said you needed to be involved in better and higher things than shoe repair.”
“Sounds like me!”
Matthias Pace began his apprenticeship with Otto Sprank by
outlining the feet of each customer as they came in. In doing this, he needed to get down on his
hands and knees to trace each foot on a piece of paper as the person stood on
the floor. For Otto Sprank, this task
was easy as he was short and spry, and also humble. For Matthias Pace, this task was
painful. He was tall and somewhat
heavyset. He also had to lower himself
figuratively much farther than Otto Sprank did. Another of Matthias Pace’s first tasks was to repair (yes, repair!) shoe
laces. He then moved on to
reconditioning and polishing the shoes.
One day, as Mathias Pace was down on his hands and knees
tracing a customer’s feet, one of his old business associates came in. “Matthias Pace, is that you?” he asked. “Please, don’t get up.” He then laughed. “Well, I guess you finally found a job that is on your
level! Learning how the working man
lives, huh, Pace?”
“It’s not on my level yet, but I’m getting there. I just decided that I needed to be involved
in better and higher things.”
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