[Oe List ...] If the Shoe Fits

[Del Morrill]

If the Shoe Fits

 

            It was the first snow of winter-an exciting day for every child
but not for most teachers.  Up until now, I had been able to dress myself
for recess, but today I would need some help.  Miss Finlayson, my
kindergarten teacher at Princess Elizabeth School near Hamilton, Ontario,
had been through first snow days many times in her long career, but I think
she may still remember this one.

 

            I managed to get into my itchy wool snow pants.  But I struggled
with my jacket because it didn't fit well.  It was a hand-me-down from my
brother, and it made me wonder why I had to wear his ugly clothes.  At least
my hat and matching scarf were mine, and they were quite pretty.  Finally,
it was time to have Miss Finlayson help me with my boots.  In her calm,
motherly voice she said, "By the end of winter, you will be able to put on
your own boots."  I didn't realize at the time that this was more a
statement of hope than of confidence.

 

            I handed her my boots and stuck out my foot.  Like most
children, I expected the adult to do all the work.  After much wiggling and
pushing, she managed to get the first one into place and then, with an
audible sign, worked the second one on too.

 

            I announced, "They're on the wrong feet."  With the grace that
only experience can bring, she struggled to get the boots off and went
through the joyless task of putting them on again.  Then I said, "These
aren't my boots, you know."  As she pulled the offending boots from my feet,
she still managed to look both helpful and interested.  Once they were off,
I said, "They're my brother's boots.  My mother makes me wear them, and I
hate them!"  Somehow, from long years of practice, she managed to act as
though I wasn't an annoying little girl.  She pushed and shoved, less gently
this time, and the boots were returned to their proper place on my feet.
With a great sign of relief, seeing the end of her struggle with me, she
asked, "Now, where are your mittens?"

 

I looked into her eyes and said, "I didn't want to lose them, so I stuffed
them into the toes of my boots."

 

                                                --From Trish Sinclair's
self-published collection of her life stories.

 

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