I wore shoes that I had long outgrown. I wore them until it hurt to put them on. I wore them until my toes poked out or until the soles split. I wore my sisters' hand-me-down shoes that were two sizes too big. I stuffed paper towels in the shoes and pretended that I didn't notice that they were five or six years out of style. Kids can be mean though and I heard hateful, vicious taunts about my clothes and shoes.
I can afford to buy my own shoes now and have plenty. I still wear them out and wear them long past their fashion-due date because even when I look at my paint-splattered penny loafers I can hear my mom saying, "But they have plenty of wear left in them!"
Ever year, our office adopts a needy family and asks what they want for Christmas. In the past, the lists have included XBoxes, CD Players, Playstations, DVDs, CDs and other flashy gear. Last month, we got an e-mail about our holiday family. It's a single mom with four boys. She's going to a technical college and makes sure the boys go to school every day. On the wish list? No toys or games or movies. The family asked for clothes and shoes. Shoes. When my shift was over, I went straight to the store to buy what I could afford.
When I told my co-workers what I was doing, they stuffed money into my hands. Wads of dollar bills, fives, tens and 20s. Before I knew what was happening, I had collected $150. Today, I spent the last of it.
It's not the fanciest stuff in the world and I wish I could have bought them more. I may be kind of stingy with my charitable giving sometimes, but if all you want for Christmas is a pair of shoes? Yeah, I can help you with that. Me and my team, we're more than happy to.