Bare Feet

In 1959 my father became the pastor of a small church in Trinidad, Texas. We moved there from Henderson, Texas in October of that year. Our first winter there was very cold. The house in which we lived had one gas space heater. They did not run the heat at night so in the morning it was very cold. I can remember shivering by the fire in the living room. I also remember getting sick and mother having to take me to the doctor, a thing they rarely did. While waiting to see the doctor I felt like I was going to throw up and told my dad and he said "Okay, hold on it won't be long." I threw up all over my lap and after they got me cleaned up they moved me right in to see the doctor. I was given a shot and sent back home. That spring the school teacher told us students that we could come to school bare footed. We were all thrilled and my mother was very happy as well. Shoes were only worn to school and church in the summer time. I remember spending a week each summer on my grandparents farm. We did not wear shoes running around the barn yard and did not mind a bit stepping in what the farm animals deposited there. We would just wipe our bare feet off on the grass and then on the rug before going into the house for lunch.

It was also in Trinidad that me and my brother Steve were told by our dad how to stand up to bullies. There was a bully that pushed us around all the time. One day my dad told us to tell him that we were going to meet him after school and that each of us was going to take one of his legs and we were going to pull him in two. We were very excited about this prospect. With great enthusiasm we sought out the bully and with great excitement in our voices we told him our plans. He did not seem impressed nor scared but after school he was no where to be found. He left us alone from that day forward. It was in Trinidad that we had a dog named Carla which my dad named after the hurricane that hit the coast that year. My dad worked for the post office in Trinidad and once my mother had me to walk down there to see if we had any mail. I remember stepping inside and there was no one there. I did not know what to do so I just called out "DADDY." From behind a wall covered with little small doors his voice came, "Yes." He seemed glad to see me and being just 7 years old and bare footed I felt so important to be entrusted with getting the mail and getting it delivered home safely. Life back in 1960 was nothing like it is today.

Our day today was productive and enjoyable. Tomorrow will be no less. The picture is of me as a child. God bless you.