Once upon a time these were new, spotless and white, with little fat toes squirming in them.
They belonged to this little girl.
Who belonged to that Memaw. I can still smell the lingering smell of bacon and coffee in that kitchen and hear the sounds of my sister and I running on the hardwood floors. Her pretty hands were soft from cocoa butter lotion that she kept by the kitchen sink and her nails were always perfectly shaped with an emery board. Her nimble fingers could cut out paper dolls from the McCall’s magazine, hand stitch baby doll clothes in an afternoon and make the most delicious pies and cakes. I miss her dearly. All of these memories from a little pair of shoes, once upon a time.