Sunday, January 10, 2010
A Tale of A Girl's Boots
Ten, nearly eleven years ago, I found my home in a western store in Atmore, Alabama. I sat on a shelf and waited for someone to enter, to try me on, to purchase me and take me home. I dreamed of the adventures I would have - the life I would lead - I was a cowgirl boot after all.
One fine afternoon a somewhat awkward young woman walked into my store. She had a list of items she needed. She did not fit the mold - you know, the horse ridin' cowgirl type and I wondered why she was there. Her list included a few things - skirts for square dances, Wrangler jeans for riding, and a pair of cowboy boots. I cringed as she picked me up, tried me on, and said I would do.
Little did I know where I was headed. This young, 21 year old girl was headed out West, to the Colorado Rockies to work on a Dude ranch. Those first months were wonderful. I square danced, I rode along as we galloped through the mountains on a fine steed, I waited tables in a big cabin lodge. I heard the girls laughter, I felt her tears, I experienced her adventure.
After about a year my joys were squelched as I found myself living in a dark closet. The girl had moved back East. She came in that dark closet often, sometimes to throw shoes on top of me, replace old ones, or just dig around for something she couldn't seem to find. Everytime she would enter I would think, "Maybe we are headed back to our adventures."
Oh, I occasionally came out - a couple of costume parties, a trip to ride a horse, but never was I worn for anything more. My days of adventure were over.
That 21 year old girl is a 31 year old woman now and for some odd reason she has kept me around all these years. I take my place in the closet next to her Birkenstocks from back in High School and College - who have seen even less wear than I. Recently, she has drug me out of her closet and I have been worn round abouts like her other more favored shoes.
Her adventures have changed. She is married, has two children, and her feet get as much action as they did so many years ago on that ranch. While not galloping through a forest, with the wind in her hair, her adventures seem to have so much more purpose. Her life with more meaning. Caring for others more than for herself, busy all the time.
While as a cowgirl boot I was born for adventure and hard work I find myself happy that she has let me stick around all these years. Sometimes life's adventures give one a different story - a different adventure - than they planned, but one that brings joy, happiness, and ultimately a life worth sharing!