From the book GENEVA…

I got the greatest pair of Easter shoes ever when I was in the second grade. My mother took me down to Woodruff’s and Methvin’s, the two shoe stores on Noble Street in Anniston which carried children’s Buster Browns and Mary Janes, to look for my new shoes. Of course she had made me a beautiful new dress, just as she did every year, dripping with lace and ruffles and bows. It was probably baby blue because she always said that was my color, and that’s what she thought I should wear. Since my mother sewed magnificently, in addition to her other domestic skills, she made all my clothes. I was the best dressed kid anywhere, rich or poor. At the shoe store that day my eyeballs immediately zeroed in on a great pair of bright yellow and green saddle oxfords, and they had two sets of wide straps and big buckles, not laces. I was a goner, and no amount of wheedling and cajoling on Mama’s part or that of the salesladies would dissuade me. I HAD to have those green and yellow oxfords. Resigned, my mother paid for them, then she grumbled all the way to the car, but I barely heard because I was so thrilled I could not stand it. I put them on the instant I got home and wore them around in the house every minute I could get away with, clomping around on the hardwood floors. I heard my exasperated mother in the kitchen telling Daddy about our shopping trip when he got home from work, and then they both started to laugh. They laughed until tears ran down down their faces, and they were holding their sides. I still did not see what was so funny.

Finally, Easter Sunday rolled around, and I pranced out in my big yellow and green clodhoppers, wearing my dainty little flouncy blue dress, hair done up in long sausage curls and bows, carrying my little white crocheted drawstring handbag Grandma Thompson had made me. (I used it every Easter till I was about ten.) I really strutted my stuff that day in Sunday School and then at the church service after. Everybody smiled and smiled at me, and I was so proud! My parents just smirked. I thought I looked fabulous. When we got to Lincoln, the hootin’ and hollerin’ really got under way. The Joneses were never known for their subtlety.

My parents made me start wearing those shoes to school the very next day, which normally would not have been allowed. Ordinarily, Easter shoes were for Sundays all summer long till time to get some new ones in the fall, but I was made to wear them every time I went out the door for a while. Eventually, Mama took me back to the shoe store and got the usual Mary Janes in black patent leather for Sundays only. But she made me wear those blooming Oxfords for every day including the summer, till my feet got too big, which was probably about six months.
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