Day 147 // The Christmas Shoes

 

The hustle and bustle of holiday traffic was at an all time high today as I ventured towards the Kenwood Towne Center. Bumper to bumper, surprisingly I was patient heading to pick up more of my “fountain of youth” water. This hydration has helped tremendously with the chemo side effects, strengthening my desire to have the last round be less painful than the first!

Hopping back into my car after retrieving several jugs, the traffic appeared to have taken a turn for the worse in just a matter of minutes. As I waited in the cluster with random thoughts spinning my head, a favorite holiday song hummed over the radio. Hearing it for the first time this season, its magic overcame my heart.

You see…it’s one of those songs that freezes your spirit, making one think ‘what is this holiday truly about?’ Our tendency is to get caught up in the gifts, lights, parties, Santa, cookies – the commercialization of the holiday. Yet, it is truly is a time for love, hope, promise and miracles.

The song is about a little boy who wishes to purchase shoes for his mother on Christmas Eve, under the impression she does not have much time left before meeting Jesus. The boy is short on money and turns to the man behind him for help.

‘Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please

It’s Christmas eve and these shoes are just her size

Could you hurry, sir, daddy says there’s not much time

You see she’s been sick for quite a while

And I know these shoes would make her smile

And I want her to look beautiful, if mama meets Jesus tonight’

Even though I knew the words, they struck a cord deep within me – this season especially. One can imagine the myriad of thoughts and emotions swirling in my head when I was initially diagnosed. “Would I ever see another holiday with Gia?” was undoubtedly one of the bigger questions I had asked myself. My eyes welled up with tears as I took myself back to that day. The “what if’s” were strong in their determination to wear me down. But I had suppressed so many of those thoughts deep within until now.

Lost with emotion, an obnoxious beeping horn brought me back to reality. My thoughts turned to the little boy…then to Gia…then to him again…then her. I can only imagine the pair of shoes that Gia might buy me if we were to cross that bridge.

But for now, we will hold tight to the peace that has been bestowed on us. And for those hurting and in need of comfort this season, we will pray.