Warm winter woolies.
A couple of days ago, while walking through our local chain store, I was inspired by the colourful decorations and Christmas carols playing. The Christmas atmosphere was marvellous. Wonderful displays of gifts to buy and of course all the Christmas cakes and mouth-watering fruit mince pies.
I was fortunate enough to get to a checkout point with only one customer ahead of me, so here, I was, drinking in the sounds of Christmas, knowing that I’ll be quick at paying for my purchases and off I’ll go, but then I happened to notice that the lady in front of me spilled her Christmas pies out of the plastic tray and some landed in the trolley. She gathered them up and as she started to put them back they kept on popping out and falling back into the trolley. After numerous attempts to keep the pies together and snap the tray lid closed, I suggested to her to ask someone to fetch another pack for her. Problem solved, or so I hoped.
I could see perspiration forming on her upper lip from frustration. Then came the moment of paying, not so. She could not unzip her handbag. The zip was faulty. She tugged and pushed … no joy.
Then the unexpected happened. She took a firm grip on the top of both sides of the bag and ripped it open. Exasperated she said “I couldn’t get my bag open” I responded “Yep it is just one of those days”.
I could not keep a straight face any longer and even the teller rolled her eyes in amazement.
I always envied girls with dainty, high arched feet. They could wear the prettiest sandals, take ballet classes and paint their nails.
My feet are large and flat and my big toes are the size of hammer heads.
Now that I am older and wiser, I would not trade my feet for anything in this world.
My feet take me where I want to go. They carry me without complaint. I wear any shoes I please and I’m happy to show anyone just how wonderful my feet really are.
I would rather have them just as they are, than not at all. Thank you, dear Lord for feet … in any size or shape.
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