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Happy Feet

My Feet

By Kathleen Gates, Guest Writer

This past Saturday, while reading, I looked down at my feet. And I began talking to them. And then I thought, “This is odd.” However, it seemed to me that I had a lot to say to them. My first thought was of my friend, Eileen. She could write a whole three pages talking about her feet. Well, I guess I could too. My little feet have been good to me. They did a lot of walking when they were young and lots of playing in the sand at the river. Once, while playing at the river, the right foot stepped on a wasp. I cried and cried because it hurt so much. My mother pulled out the stinger and washed my foot in the water. I hopped up to the blanket, plopped down, and dried off the wounded foot. When it was time to leave, I slipped on my flip-flops and hobbled the half-mile home.

My feet did a great deal of peddling on my bike. They were steady when I played badminton, horseshoes, hide and seek, and all the games children played. My feet were my greatest allies when playing hopscotch, kickball, and jump rope. They ran around the bases during softball games as well.

I have almost always worn sandals, thinking that my feet needed to breathe. I have never had toenail fungus on my feet which leads me to believe that I was, and am, correct. Once, while getting firewood from the backyard, I dropped a log on my big toe. That was extremely painful. I waited five weeks to see a doctor, mainly because I could not afford to pay for X-rays. It turned out (surprise!) that my big toe bones had been smashed. At that point, there was nothing to be done except pills for the pain and time for the healing.

For a part of my life I worked with horses and ponies; more than once, one would step on one or the other of my feet. Yet, my feet were resilient. My little feet have traveled miles and miles. After I got out of the horse business, I took up golf, and for many years played golf daily which meant my feet, again, did a great deal of walking. I did have to train them to be still while I was swinging the golf club, and to keep me balanced during the swing.

So, I told my feet they have always been good to me. I have always tried to be good to them as well. I believe I have kept my toenails painted since they were ten years old. Now they get oil rubs, their nails are always neatly trimmed, and they get painted with many different colors. It has always been my thought that my feet are my only asset, not my face or my hair, and certainly not my short legs... just my feet. That's great! A part of my body nobody sees or cares about.

I thanked my feet for being such little troopers. I reminded them that we were getting older now and we needed to hang in there together. Even though nobody sees my feet, I still love them and will always take good care of them.

Thank you little feet!

By Kathy Gates

Two young barefoot children having just stepped into water at a lake shore. Shoes waiting on dry land.


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