Shoe Prints

Ah, perspective.

Such a big word. A powerful word. A word that’s become increasingly meaningful to me.

I suspect that as each one of us grows older (and hopefully wiser), we gain a greater understanding of what it means to put things into perspective and find silver linings. I wonder, though, if Ellie has intensified that process of growth for me.

If you’re a faithful blog-reader of mine, then you’re already well aware of my LACK of perspective on the bad days. It’s the first thing to disappear into the gloomy clouds of sadness and selfishness.

Yet, on the good days (which usually outnumber the bad, thank goodness), it’s the little things that tweak my perspective and cause me to find new blessings.

Like shoes.

Dirty shoes.

When Richard and I were first married, I was constantly harping on him to take his shoes off in the entrance. I quickly realized that taking off your shoes when entering a house is not a southern thing to do. Even after a rain storm. Up here in the north, though, leaving your shoes on inside someone’s house is a sign of disrespect. Nine months out of the year, you’d be tracking dirty snow and salt into the house, so as not to upset the residents (read: spouse), taking your shoes off at the door is usually a good idea.

You know who WASN’T scolded for leaving her shoes on inside the house yesterday?

My sweet Ellie.

Rather, I smiled with thankfulness as my baby girl tracked in the mud. Dirt on her shoes and dirt on all four of her walker’s wheels. GLORIOUS.

When I sold a bunch of too-small Ellie-shoes at my garage sale a few months ago, a couple of bargain hunters commented on how clean each pair was. I remember my heart sinking, knowing that the shoes of three-year-olds are SUPPOSED to be grimy, not shiny.

Well, sorry to tell ya, future shoppers, but it looks like any little girl shoes sold at subsequent garage sales won’t be white and shiny! YAY!


(By the way, Richard, you STILL need to remove YOUR shoes…)