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My Memories of Mom
From my childhood to adulthood, my mother told me the Story of the Shoes.
She and her sister were born in Huntington, Indiana in the early 1900’s.
It must have been a beautiful day in spring as Grandmother told them to go outside
and stay clean because they were all headed to town.
The girls were dressed in their pretty white frocks and brand new shoes!
The siblings had different ideas. They wanted to play on such a beautiful day!
Grandmother scornfully warned them from the porch, reminding them to stay clean.
Well that was the last straw.
The older sister always pulled her younger sibling around in a little red wagon.
So down to the crick they went…Betty pulling Mildred in that little red wagon.
They would show “Mom.”
Betty, being the older, pulled off her pretty new white shoes and threw them into the water.
Mildred, not wanting to be left out, threw her new white shoes into the watery ripples as well.
SPLASH!
Down the currents of water the shoes floated, never to be seen again.
My mother never revealed the consequences of their actions, but I’m sure I can guess.
The story was always, “We threw our shoes in the crick,” in her soft matter-of-fact manner,
as if it was of little consequence.
Now grown and approaching the latter part of mid life,
I returned to the place of my mother’s birth and visited the crick of ill repute.
As we crossed the rickety ol’ bridge over a rushing river below,
it was then I discovered the “crick” my mother and her sister threw their brand new white shoes into was,
indeed, the…
RUSHING MIGHTY WABASH RIVER!
Jo
