Orange Shoes

It was a cold night just a few weeks before Christmas and I was on the search for the perfect pair or orange shoes.  I'd recently found a thick, fuzzy scarf in a rich shade of tangerine and immediately fell in love. I knew it would be a lonely accessory without a pair of shoes to match, and since I'd recently seen a perfect pair of patent ballet flats in the same hue at a local store, I had to make sure to grab a pair before they ran out of my size.  I grabbed my coupons and headed out the door with my roommate.  We walked straight to the shoe department and grabbed the last pair of shiny orange shoes in my size.  I wasted no time taking them to the checkout only to discover that my coupon had expired the night before. Ugh. No discount. Dang. The best I was able to get was a measly 15% off.  I was torn. I desperately wanted the shoes and it was the last pair in my size, but I had intended to purchase them at almost half price. What. to. do.  I gave in and made the purchase.

I walked out of the store mumbling to my roommate about how frustrated I was with myself for not having purchased them the night before, already debating if I should return them and hope for a better coupon or sale or find another store that would have my size.  I don't really like paying full price for anything. It just takes away all the fun.

In the middle of my grumbling, a young girl approached us in the parking lot. She started apologizing, asking if she'd already talked to us...her head hung low, she looked around us, barely making eye contact, fidgeting as she spoke.  At first I was completely confused...and a bit on the defense.  I wasn't really registering anything she was saying and my initial thought was, "Oh, she's trying to sell me something".  I almost told her I wasn't interested without even hearing what she was trying to tell me. That's a mistake I hope to never repeat.

She began to tell us how she just needed $50 for a hotel room.  Her mom was ill and couldn't work, she was waitressing trying to help pay the bills, but the pay just wasn't cutting it. This girl couldn't have been much older than 21.  I glanced over at the car she came from and saw an elderly woman bundled up in the front seat.  She shared that she had been sleeping in her car but with the price of gas so high and the nights so cold, it was hard to afford to stay warm.  Her voice began to crack and she said, "I just want a warm shower. A place to sleep. I'm not very good at being a beggar, but I just don't know what else to do." 

All I had in my wallet was one dollar.  My mind was all over the place...thinking about the cash I'd had earlier that day that I couldn't quite remember where I'd spent it, but at that moment I was sure it was the wrong place.  I thought about my shoes and how upset I was that I didn't get them on sale, realizing at that moment just how ridiculous that was.  And mostly I thought about it being just weeks away from Christmas and while every car in that parking lot was probably tied to a person in the store making final gift purchases, her car was filled with 2 people just trying to make it through another night.  I apologized to her profusely and handed her the dollar that I had, and she accepted it with so much gratitude you would have thought it was a lot more than just a dollar.  Her response was one of such optimism, "all I need is 49 more people who are willing to give one more".  I apologized again and wished her well...climbing in my car and feeling like dirt.

My roommate and I sat there for a moment, both of us knowing there was something more that needed to be done, but not sure what exactly that was.  We discussed getting them food, but she mentioned that churches had given them canned goods (although with no can opener or way to heat up the food...it wasn't extremely helpful. Something I will remember for the future). We discussed going to a hotel and booking a room and returning to the parking lot to give them the key...but we knew we'd risk them being gone by the time we returned.  It came down to what they needed, and that was money, but my bank was so far away I feared they might leave before I could get there/back.  Julie said, "Why don't we head over to the grocery store across the street, buy a pack of gum and get cash back?"  Perfect.

We were in and out as quickly as possible, both of us with cash in hand.  We headed back to the parking lot and as I got out of the car, the girl began to approach me with her speech and then stopped herself when she recognized me, apologizing for bothering me again.  I handed her the folded bills and trying to hold back the tears said, "Take your mom to a hotel and get a warm night's rest. Merry Christmas".  She immediately started to cry and rushed back to her car to tell her mom, both of them hugging and sobbing.  I got back in the car and we drove home, both of us not saying much, tears rolling down our cheeks.  Silently I prayed for them, and as I prayed, I thanked God that he stopped me long enough to listen.

Now every time I wear my orange shoes I can't help but think of that girl and her mom.  I wonder where they are now and if their circumstances have improved.  I wonder if they've found a place to live.  I wonder why I get to live this life while she lives that one.  The shoes are like a string on my finger, reminding me to pray for them, reminding me to be grateful for a warm shower and a soft bed...and most of all, reminding me to always stop and listen.