Tips for kids

This shoeshine man was a good soul

On a recent day when the newspaper was filled with the expected stories of national acrimony, sex scandal, murder and war, an unexpected piece — an obituary on a shoeshine man from a Rust Belt borough in the Mon Valley — edged its way onto the front page. Exactly where it deserved — needed — to be.

The Oct. 16 passing of 76-year-old Albert P. Lexie of Monessen made A1 — a prized corner of print for any article, especially an obit and especially an obit on a “regular Joe.”

But his death deserved special recognition because Mr. Lexie’s life deserved special recognition.

For more than three decades, Mr. Lexie worked as a shoeshine man at UPMC Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh where he charged $2 or $3 for a spit-and-polish on the shoes of hospital visitors and staff.

And while his dedication to his work, performed reliably and with cheer, was noteworthy in itself, Mr. Lexie really made his mark by donating all of his tips all of the time to the hospital’s Free Care Fund, which benefits sick children from families of limited means.

Coin by coin, bill by bill, those tips added up to $202,000 by the time of his retirement.

It was a significant donation by any standard but it was extraordinary within the context of Mr. Lexie’s life: He grew up in one of the housing projects of Westmoreland County. He contended with learning disabilities. He quit school after the eighth grade — the year he made his first shoeshine box in a shop class. By all economic standards, he was poor, earning only about $10,000 annually.

Aside from his overcoming obstacles and his generous spirit, the reason Mr. Lexie’s obituary deserved front-page status is because, in its details, there’s a road map for the rest of us.

Mr. Lexie proved that the desire to do good is good enough, so long as we actually act on it.

Whatever our financial means, whatever our talents, gifts and abilities, each of us can choose to make a difference. Some of us can do it in big ways. For others, the contributions may be small. Either way, over the span of our lives, we each have the potential to do incremental and impactful things. Mr. Lexie showed us that. Many of us bemoan the dearth of heroes to admire and emulate. The stalwarts of our history books have been sullied by the test of time and the quest for total accuracy. Sports figures have fallen from grace.

Police have been toppled from their pedestals. Religious leaders have ceded the high ground. Here is a thought: Instead of looking for heroes, let’s be a hero. Let’s be like Mr. Lexie.