Split Shoes

I've just returned home from, I believe, a divinely ordained encounter.

The house was just too quiet this morning. Big Ben and I are used to having the 4 sisters at home over Christmas break, and the last few days have been so quiet. So, I called CC and said I was a little blue and asked if I could come up to school and have lunch with him. He said, "Sure, but come after noon, I'll be free then." We went up and Big Ben played with all his office buddies. We ate the grilled sandwiches I'd brought, which tasted good on a day like today...in the 30's with a little snow this morning. After awhile, I broke the news gently to Big Ben, "Time to go home and go night night." The cafeteria had over-ordered, so there were 2 extra pizzas for sale. I bought one for $5 to bring home for the kids' dinner tonight. We piddled a little while longer, then I offered to drive my good buddy B to her house to drop off a big box, then bring her back in time to teach her math class before Big Ben and I headed home.

As I waited for her to take in her box, I noticed a young lady with three children walking down the street. As I stared closer, I saw the little girl had split shoes. The backs were cut in two, to make the shoes fit her. Her socks did not match. Her pants were capri knit. No coat. The boy had no coat either. His hands were deep in his pockets in an attempt to keep them warm. One girl glanced at me, I smiled. She didn't smile back, but she didn't scowl. It seemed her thoughts were on staying warm and dry.

And in that moment, something formulated in my mind. It was one of those times that I realize is not just a good idea, it's a God idea. I tried to watch them as long as possible to see where their house might be. When B got in the car, I confessed, "You are going to think I'm crazy, but I need to find out where those people live." I bit back the tears. "Her shoes are split to make them fit." B's always game to go along with it, she has a bigger heart than me. So, we pulled up next to them and asked where their house was. She told me, "Down there." I said, "I have extra clothes. I have 5 kids, and we have extra clothes." At this point, a couple more had joined and there were about 6 of them. One immediately began her speech, "Please give us money for bread. Allah will bless you." I said, "No money. But I have other things. Get in, I'll take you home." Wide-eyed, they came around the van. I whispered to B, "Is there anything in the back of the van to steal?" We drove down, down, down, until we came to their shack. It's hard for me to imagine walking that far in this weather. Before they got out, I asked the oldest her name. She quickly told me. Then (I thought this was so cute) they all wanted me to know their names. Of course they did. Being poor does not make you less than a person. And then they said, "Big sister, what is your name?" I told them. Their mamas were outside with a small fire, plucking a chicken for their dinner. I handed them the pizza and told them I'd see them later. B said casually, "If you ever go back down there, buy them some groceries or anything, I'll come along with you."

The coming to school after noon. The extra pizza. The driving down to B's house. It was part of a plan. I'll see them again. I can't get those split shoes out of my head.