The Red Shoes

Mae loved the color red, she always had. For years she had looked longingly at red shoes in the stores, never daring to buy them. She had told her father once that she wanted some red shoes and he had quickly responded that only prostitutes wore red shoes and no daughter of his was going to look like a prostitute. This had successfully kept Mae from asking for the shoes for many years had kept her from buying them, and had ultimately kept her from wearing them for even longer, but still she dreamed of wearing red shoes.

 

As Mae grew she continued to look at red shoes whenever she happened to be in a shoe store or see someone else wearing them and yet her father's voice kept her away from the one thing she truly wanted: Red Shoes.

 

The years wore on and time passed bringing with it marriage, World War II, two children, divorce, re-marriage, the death of a husband all filled with good times and sadness and everything that comes with life. She saw her children married and grandchildren come into her life. She instilled with in them a wonderful and unconditional love and acceptance something she never got.

 

Mae fought cancer twice over and still survived. I was born in 1980 and she was 67, and my great- grandmother. By the time I had come along my GG proudly owned and WORE a pair of red shoes even to church once a week. She shared her story with me, looking back I know she was hoping I would see the hidden moral but my young mind just didn't twist around it.

 

We lost her in 1999 at 84; I was nineteen we buried her in her favorite suit and her red shoes and the sun didn't shine for me for months. She was lost to cancer after a long fight and it saddened all of us.

 

Years later in 2003 the house that had been Mae's was sold her youngest daughter unable to keep it up, I found myself with my husband in another state and unable to help keep the house though I was sad that it had to be sold. On a trip back to town I found myself driving by the old house, the new owner had remodeled it and I was curious, my husband prompted me to ring the door bell and ask the resident if i could see. I found myself talking to a very kind woman nice enough to let me see the house, having a wonderful conversation.

 

When she stopped to ask me about a bag she found in the basement, full of shoes. I knew nothing about it until she continued on to tell me that they were all at least 50 years old and she had sold them, she continued to tell me that more than 75% looked as if they had never been worn and were red- at this I finally laughed knowing whose they were and the hidden message sunk in after all these years.

 

Anytime I see red shoes now I smile- thinking of that wonderful woman and I vow I will never be afraid to wear red shoes.