And with my first child, I was taught a life lesson that has stayed with me all these years. It was one of many, but it almost feels like it was one of the first and most important because it is so prominent in my mind even today. Whenever I see a pair of little girls' Mary Jane shoes, I immediately think of what I was taught one day.
We had moved into a new home in a new city a few months before, and I was just beginning to make friends with some of the neighbors and a few other young moms at our new church. I had joined a ladies' Bible study, and a friend who lived fairly close by was going to stop and pick me up on the way. However, about 1/2 hour before she was due to arrive, I called her and told her I wouldn't be able to make it that day after all — something had come up. I was vague. I did not want her to know the truth.
That morning, while getting my daughter ready, I couldn't seem to get her little shoes on her little feet. They wouldn't fit. I tried to get them on, again and again, twisting and turning, but there was no way they were going to fit. And she only had the one pair. I began to panic a little. What would I do now?
You see, we lived on a very tight budget. We lived from payday to payday. We had bought a new house, which meant lots of hidden expenses; I wasn't working, and we now had a child. Money was tight, really tight. We weren't getting paid for another week. I had enough food, had paid my utility bills, and had nothing left over. And besides, children's shoes weren't cheap. I had no idea what I was going to do. Stay hidden inside the house, I guess. Where no one would know.
I remember sliding down to the floor, tears rolling down my face, and praying. It broke my heart that my little girl needed shoes and I had no way to buy her any until the following week. We didn't use credit cards — I needed cash. And I didn't have any. I prayed, and I asked God for help. I don't remember the details of my prayer — just the emotion behind it. I was hurting for our situation. Maybe a little mad, a little upset, and maybe just a little proud. Why was this happening to me? And why today? Couldn't it have happened tomorrow? When I didn't have Bible study. Didn't God want me to go to Bible study? I was feeling more and more sorry for myself as the minutes ticked by.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. I peeked through the peephole, and there stood my friend. I didn't want to answer the door. What was I going to say to her? But I opened it. And there she stood, with a little brown bag in her hand. She held it out to me and said, "Here, I don't know why I'm bringing these to you, but I couldn't do or go anywhere without dropping these by." The feeling of urgency was too great. I opened the little brown bag, and inside was a pair of Mary Jane shoes — just the size my daughter needed.
Have you heard the expression you could have knocked me over with a feather? Well, you could have. I started to cry. I invited her in and told her my story. She started to cry and told me her story — the story of what was going on in her home. As she was getting ready, she kept walking past the shoes her daughter had outgrown and felt like taking them to me. However, she was sure that I wouldn't want them. After all, I had a new house and presented myself as being altogether. She didn't want to feel embarrassed if I turned down the shoes.
Pride. I think looking back now, there was one word that was the epicenter of our lesson. God wanted to teach each of us something. For me, I believe He was teaching me to ask and to trust in Him. For her, I think He was teaching her to obey when He spoke.
It's been over 40 years, and I cannot look at a little brown paper bag or a little pair of girls' shoes without thinking of my own pride and how God met my needs that morning. I am thankful. He has always met my needs, has always been patient with me, and has always been my teacher. My prayer is that I always remain His faithful student. And that I don't ever forget the lessons of my life.
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