Angela (who is 16 and has Down syndrome for all you new readers) can be a bit of a problem to find footwear for. First of all, she has very tiny feet - the size of a preschooler - so finding shoes that don't look like little kids shoes can be a bit of a problem. She has needed new shoes for awhile because, while her feet don't grow anymore, her orthotics put a lot of stress on shoes, ripping through them by about month 3-4. A friend of mine posted some FUN shoes a couple weeks ago, and although they're quite flashy, they are SO ANGELA!! I hoped they would fit her orthotics. They came today and they are actually easier to get on than her current shoes. And...best of all...she LOVES THEM! Don't you?
As she was walking around modeling her new shoes, an image came to mind. It was of Axel the day I was given custody of him. I'd brought an outfit for him (that he was drowning in!) along with a brand new winter coat, hat, gloves, and shoes.
Axel loved his new clothes, especially that he had a plaid shirt like his foster father!
But what Axel liked most was his shoes. I never saw him in shoes when I visited, but he was always wearing slippers. (no walking around in bare or stocking feet in Serbia!) Those slippers were 2 sizes too small. When I put his new shoes on his feet he was just beside himself. He went around the house showing everyone his new shoes. He took them off and put them back on. Shoes. HIS shoes. He was so proud!
Then I thought of Asher. When I was still visiting him in the institution I brought his new shoes to make sure they fit. Asher's were light-up shoes. He was fascinated for a few minutes, but the caregivers are who gave the biggest reaction. They were fascinated by his light up shoes. His cheap $15 light up shoes. One of the caregivers said to me, "These children will never have anything so nice in their life. He is lucky to be loved." I knew what she meant. That he was lucky enough to have found a family. I know his birth family cared about him very much, but to give a child in the institution something like shoes would be pointless as they'd soon disappear. When I was finally able to take him from the institution, the orphan shoes he had been wearing were removed from his feet and handed to the next child. Asher and his new flashy shoes were now free to walk the streets of the world.
And then there is B. For nine plus years he has been wearing shoes that have been worn by 20 other children. They may or may not fit. That doesn't really seem to be all that important, since tomorrow he may wear a different pair, and a different pair the day after that! At nine years old B has never had a pair of shoes to call his own. We will bring along an inexpensive pair of shoes just in case they don't fit, but when we get home we will buy him shoes that better suit his personality. B has never had a mother take him to a store, find a pair of shoes that fit him just right, pay for them, then let him proudly carry the bag home. Because they're his.
Today, during my vast amount of spare time, I was looking at shoe websites, imagining what kind of shoes B might like.
As she was walking around modeling her new shoes, an image came to mind. It was of Axel the day I was given custody of him. I'd brought an outfit for him (that he was drowning in!) along with a brand new winter coat, hat, gloves, and shoes.
Axel loved his new clothes, especially that he had a plaid shirt like his foster father!
But what Axel liked most was his shoes. I never saw him in shoes when I visited, but he was always wearing slippers. (no walking around in bare or stocking feet in Serbia!) Those slippers were 2 sizes too small. When I put his new shoes on his feet he was just beside himself. He went around the house showing everyone his new shoes. He took them off and put them back on. Shoes. HIS shoes. He was so proud!
Then I thought of Asher. When I was still visiting him in the institution I brought his new shoes to make sure they fit. Asher's were light-up shoes. He was fascinated for a few minutes, but the caregivers are who gave the biggest reaction. They were fascinated by his light up shoes. His cheap $15 light up shoes. One of the caregivers said to me, "These children will never have anything so nice in their life. He is lucky to be loved." I knew what she meant. That he was lucky enough to have found a family. I know his birth family cared about him very much, but to give a child in the institution something like shoes would be pointless as they'd soon disappear. When I was finally able to take him from the institution, the orphan shoes he had been wearing were removed from his feet and handed to the next child. Asher and his new flashy shoes were now free to walk the streets of the world.
And then there is B. For nine plus years he has been wearing shoes that have been worn by 20 other children. They may or may not fit. That doesn't really seem to be all that important, since tomorrow he may wear a different pair, and a different pair the day after that! At nine years old B has never had a pair of shoes to call his own. We will bring along an inexpensive pair of shoes just in case they don't fit, but when we get home we will buy him shoes that better suit his personality. B has never had a mother take him to a store, find a pair of shoes that fit him just right, pay for them, then let him proudly carry the bag home. Because they're his.
Today, during my vast amount of spare time, I was looking at shoe websites, imagining what kind of shoes B might like.
Will he choose blue?
Or maybe he'll like really bright colors?
Bold and brazen?
Perhaps he'll prefer high tops?
I can't wait to buy B his first pair of shoes.
Loved this. I can't wait for you to bring your new son home!
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