The Meaning of New Shoes
Featured Writer: Jenn Winter
www.jennwinter.com
“Ah, Jenni,” Irene smiled as she picked up a small pair of the faux Converse All-Stars, “they are really going to remember this!”
“Huh?” I looked up from a long list of names and measurements in my little black notebook, “remember what?”
“You know,” she continued, ignoring my question, “even me, I remember my first pair of shoes. And they were not even new, they were old!”
“What did they look like?”
“You know, I can still see them!” Irene closed her eyes and turned her face toward the ceiling of the stuffy Bata shoe store. “They were just black school shoes, but they meant so much to me!” She laughed her little girl giggle, “they were so old and worn out! I only wore them for a few months, then they fell apart, so I had to go without again.”
I picked up a stiff pair of black leather school shoes and held them out to Irene. “Like these?”
“Yes.” She nodded her head as she took the shoes and slowly inspected them. “Yes, like these ones.”
“How old were you?”
“Me, I was in standard 8. Before I went to Form 1 in the high school.” I unsuccessfully tried to hide my astonishment, “Yes, Jenni, standard 8! I had no shoes until I was 14!”
“But they only lasted for a few months?” I prompted.
“Yes, and then I went back to school with the bare feet again and I got in trouble and the headmaster, he sent me home. So my auntie, she bought me a brand new pair because the shoes, they were required.” Irene smiled again, remembering the stiffness of the leather and the thick soles, how different it felt to first walk in shoes. “Jenni, I am telling you,” she proclaimed once again, “those kids are going to really be excited! They are going to remember this day!”
I looked again from my list to her sincere eyes, and, suddenly understood the importance of her statement. The shoes of my youth came from Vose Bootery, and my seasonal visits with my mom and sisters always resulted in brand new, matching footwear. I remembered the pale purple beaded moccasins with the fringe and soft leather. I remembered the white woven sandals with the ankle strap that were reserved for special occasions and gave me terrible blisters. I remembered the white Keds that my mom would put in the washing machine with bleach whenever they looked more brown than white and the sound of little shoes bumping around in the dryer. I even remembered the soft, pink slippers and the blue and white heavy snow boots. So many pairs of brand new shoes for a girl who couldn’t have been more than six years old, but I was shocked at how many I was able to recall so clearly. Irene was right, this was going to be a big day. A perfect way to spend my 28th birthday.
It had been a long time since I’d been in the kids’ section of a shoe store, but this time was different. The previous morning Irene and I had measured the dusty little feet of nearly 100 kids at Mbaruku IDP Camp with a string and wrote down the length in centimeters in my notebook. I suggested we bring one pair of each size to the camp to determine the exact sizes needed but, as Irene quickly reminded me, “Ah, Jenni! Look around, you are in Kenya! This is how we do it here.” The very pregnant Bata sales associate and I, as a result, worked to convert centimeters into shoe sizes.
After trips to all six Bata shoe stores in the three block radius that is the business district of Nakuru, Kenya, we had finally collected all 94 pair of little shoes. Individually wrapped in clear plastic bags, the groovy looking colorful “North-Stars” were boxed in the back of the van, and awaited the dusty, little feet. The young residents of Mbaruku IDP Camp had stolen my heart on my previous visit. Though most of the Rift Valley region is lush and fertile, the area surrounding Mbaruku was more like a windy desert. The first time I visited the small, isolated camp the children seemed to appear from clouds of dust and, thus, became known to Irene and me as the Dust Babies.
The sun was just starting to set when we got to Mbaruku for the shoe distribution. I had rewritten the names of each recipient clearly under the corresponding shoe size so as to avoid confusion, but I’d learned at that point that all IDP distributions come with chaos and disorder. They involve lots of grabbing and pushing and yelling and accusations, but, in the end, everyone leaves happy. The scene was comical. Our wonderful driver, David, who I’ve decided reminds me of my Grandpa Winter (one of the highest compliments any man can receive) crawled into the back of the van to find the correct sizes while Irene called names. I then presented the new shoes to the eager outstretched hands.
At one point a mother handed me a sleeping baby to hold so all of this was done with one hand until the poor child woke up and found himself being held by a mzungu. His shrieks of terror served as comic relief to the hundreds of refugee onlookers and no matter how hard I tried to soothe him, he just screamed louder. I searched the crowd for the boy’s mother but was unable to locate her. Eventually a little girl came up to me, took the baby and tied him to her back. Moments like that remind me of why I love Kenya and why I continually find myself returning to that great land of contrasts.
As I watched the young girl carry the screaming baby away from the crowd I noticed that her new shoes were leaving footprints on the dusty ground. Crisscrossed impressions with a star in the center of the sole stamped the ground leaving a definitive pattern in her wake. It was such a simple scene but it struck me as so beautiful and genuine and I found myself desperately wanting to share that moment with friends and family back home. As hard as I try, my stories and photographs from my work in Kenya fall short of the stories that I want to tell. How does one describe the look a child gets on his face when presented with brand new shoes? The care he takes to wrap his dusty feet in plastic bags before slowly sliding them into the stiff, colorful canvas? The way he stops every few steps to bend down and wipe the dust from the top of his new shoes? Those moments are the ones that tend to stick with me.
Timid yet appreciative whispers of “thank you” and “asante” were muttered as the little hands took hold of their new shoes in utter amazement. An entirely new sensation was then experienced as the Dust Babies stood and took their first steps in new shoes. They walked gingerly at first, adjusting to their new centers of balance and seeing the world from an inch or so off the ground. But kids are kids and within minutes they were running in their new shoes, playing as children do all over the world.
Irene was right, this was a day that would stay in the memories of the Dust Babies for the rest of their lives. These children, who had witnessed so much horror and violence, who had to leave their homes only to be shuffled between camps and who, after more than three years, still lived in the same small, cramped tents. This was a good day. A great day. One of the best.
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I’m Loving you For This One Right here, Your So Self Aware And i Admire That, Never Change Love -,o
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I’ll never forget this posting …
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What a wonderful thing to do!
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This brought tears to my eye’s as well as a smile. God bless you Lesley.
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All it takes is for us to truly look at others and realize that little things do matter. Like a little pair of shoes and a smile.
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This story really touched me. Jenn Winter has discovered what life here on earth is all about… love, compassion and helping other’s who are less fortunate than ourselves. When I read stories like this, it makes me want to be a better person too. Truly beautiful!
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Thank you for your kind words!
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We have a shoe store named Bata here in Peru, too. Such a lovely story.
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Yes, you’ll find Bata stores in many developing countries. They have a long history of providing affordable shoes as well as supporting local education and children’s charities. The store in Nakuru gave me generous discount when they learned that the shoes were going to IDP children.
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I grew up on Bata in Pakistan. Well I remember yearly trips to Bata to get shoes for school! Loved this post – thank you. Was in Pakistan a year ago working in IDP camps so it resonated well.
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The story about kids’ shoes in Kenya is lovely. The writer’s and your sensitivity come shining through to light up the day.
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Untill you met those who have not even the basy, then you know how much God has bless you. It is honorable to be a giver. May the Lord bless you for what you are doing to these women and their children
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Thank you! It was a memorable day indeed. If you want to learn more about the NGO I work for in Kenya or to get in touch with Irene you can visit her website VICDA http://vicdakenya.com/
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Untill you meet those who have not even the basic, then you know how much God has blessed you. It is honorable to be a giver. May the Lord bless you for what you are doing to these women and their children
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Beautiful kids, beautiful post.
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Thank you for sharing this inspirational story. So beautiful.
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🙂 This was a wonderful read.
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This is a truly inspirational story. To touch so many lives so deeply is something many people feel they can only dream to accomplish. You have shown this to be a false assumption. A simple act, a contribution we would easily take for granted, can have a profound impact on a life.
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Wonderful and inspiring post.
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got me all teary eyed
hugs and blessings
thank you
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Kudos to you, because this is simply wonderful.
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What a great story!
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wonderfu post Lesley!
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This is one of my favorite posts by you so far. (o:
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Thank you, I’m flattered!
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this post is beautiful inspiring and filled with joy. Thank yo for sharing with us. Be Well, Katherine
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sorry for the type-o 😦 you not yo
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wonderful post. really touching
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This post certainly leaves us all grateful for our own lives, I would imagine. To think that to some children, a simple pair of shoes will be a ‘wonderful’ memory that will last throughout their lives. Just look at the smiles on those children’s faces. Great post.
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This was a great post, thank you.
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My heart is so heavy and so light at the same time! I cannot wait for my opportunity to be with children like these. Ones who can unintentionally humble you! Im glad you are having this experience and that they get to experience you!
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Sometimes we throw away things just for the “pleasure” of buying more stuff. This is such a great story, these words and images are going straight to my heart, thank you for sharing…
¡Muchas gracias y bendiciones!
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I not only read the story and loved it (tears welling up in my eyes), but I checked out the author’s website, too. http://jennwinter.com/mission-for-mercy/ Like a lot of the people I have encountered here in the WordPress realm, I am quite impressed.
I have been considering sharing one of my blog posts with you and your other followers, but wonder if anything I do could come close to people like Jenn.
Thank you for sharing her post, though. It is quite inspirational.
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Thank you, I’m humbled… Please share your stories!
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Wonderful post! I never had to go without shoes; sometimes, well a lot of times, they weren’t new, but I had shoes. The first pair of new shoes I really remember was a pair of ballet slippers. I loved those shoes and would twirl and dance around pretending I was a ballerina. When they wore out, and I really took care of those shoes, my Mom eventually bought another pair. Even now, when I see ballet slippers, I feel good and want to dance around.
What a splendid thing you have done for these children. They truly will remember their first pair of shoes!
Thank you for sharing this event with us!! 🙂
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Bless be you and all of yours, Leslie. This post brought tears to my eyes–so selfless, so candid, so delicate. And the photos? Absolutely precious, capturing not only the heart of those helpless children, but also their innocence.
Can’t thank you enough for sharing!
xoxo
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I love it, thank you for reminding me how blessed I am.
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Jen Winter’s post is beautiful. Thank you Leslie for printing it.It makes me hope that it won’t be so long before al the little children will have shoes to wear and schools to learn in.
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Wow, you go girl! It seems like you may just be the female, blogging version of Jeffrey Deaver…
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Beautiful. ❤
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Great post. Beautiful smiling faces on those children! So neat!
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great story, so much thanks for sharing!
Peace
xandi
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This warmed my heart and brought a smile to my face.
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Thank you!
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This is a such sweet post! I’m a pediatrician and I recently spent 2 months in Burundi, the poorest country in the world, so I know how it feels like. Thank you for sharing this!
Michi
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This is a wonderful, and beautiful post! I had a similar experience in Puit-Blains, Haiti, a suburb of Port-au-Prince, last summer on a mission trip. My team and I had worked alongside Haitian laborers, many of whom were barefoot on a construction site. On our last day, as we observed the sacrament of Holy Communion with our Haitian interpreters and some of the laborers, some of my teammates and I took off our shoes (work boots, athletic shoes, etc.) and gave them to our new friends. The men’s faces shined brighter than the noon-day sun! It was such a humbly experience for me, and one that I remember every single day. I live an incredibly blessed life, the least I can do is share with others.
xo,
Nicole @ Three 31
http://nicoleandkevin.wordpress.com/
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Lovely story, well written, heartfelt and great pictures.
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Who would think that simple things like shoes would mean so much!
I volunteered in Kenya three years ago, teaching and building classrooms in a small town called Salabwek. It opened my eyes to a lot of things and changed my views on life.
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Asante sana for sharing this story.
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Goodness comes in Keds. Great thoughts and visions. Thanks for sharing your hope!
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Truly inspiring … Thanks for the share. Care deeply, Live simply, Love generously and Speak kindly.
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Thank you for sharing this story! So incredible and I can relate as I am getting involved with getting the local school children shoes and uniforms. Inspiring!
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Glad you enjoyed it!
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What a life changing adventure and story for us readers as well. I imagine the blessing given with the shoes cannot even come close to the blessing of giving.
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A true tear-jerker…The kids look beautiful, dusty complexions and all! I felt light hearted after reading this. Great post!
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