Thursday, April 06, 2006

The story of my special shoe.


Some people like Sara of mainly zaz can't wait to hear the story it seems. Well here it is Sara.

My mother was born in 1909 and she was called Mary Elizabeth Jones, two years later her brother was born. My grandfather was wounded in action a few weeks before the end of the First World Ward and died from his wounds a few months later when she was 9 years old. He`died at Christmas.

She often told me how she was dressed in black from head to toe for a whole year and then she had a few red imitation cherries on her hat to relieve the black for the next year.

Her mother had a spinster sister called Elin who was very kind to them at this time and she once took the children to the Fair. They had a wonderful day out and she bought this little shoe with the lace for my mother. She always thought the world of her shoe, but she gave it to me when I started collecting shoes. Unfortunately, one day as I was dusting I dropped the shoe and maybe you can see the cracks? I repaired it, but one piece was missing. Needles to say I was upset.

When she was 80 years old, my mother was ill and came to stay with us. She noticed the broken shoe and told me she wished she had never given it to me.
Memories.

8 comments:

Paige said...

So sad, so very very sad. Mothers sometimes say stuff that is not how they mean it. I bet she was trying to say she knew how upset you have been about the brake. It is the story & the love that is carried with the story that brings meaning to that old glass shoe. Not the actual shoe itself. {Peace}

Gill said...

Oh Mags, thank you for sharing that story with us. I find that we are all a little less careful about what we say to those we love and often speak our thoughts out loud when they would really best be left unsaid.
Your tale reminds me to do that more often. Thank you!

abeautifulcraft said...

Your shoe is gorgeous Margaret, even with it's broken piece, I am sure your story and the story of the shoe will continue to be handed down .... hugggsss

Zaz said...

Oh oh oh - that was a lovely story but I didnt like what your Mother said to you :-( I expect the other commenteers are right - your mother didnt mean it that way ......hopefully!
and - remember it is an artefact! memories are much more valuable than actual 'things'.......at least i think so!

your memories are fantastic......I love your story telling!

Sara

Carol said...

Margaret, Much better to have a cracked and repaired shoe, that has been lovingly dusted all these years, than a pristine ornament that has been kept in a box all its life.

Ribbonwiz said...

So sad,
I'm sure she did not mean it the way it came out.
maybe it was because you dropped it and it broke, but never the less you still have the shoe to remember her and your aunt by..

MargaretR said...

Thanks to you all for the comments on my lovely shoe.
I know my mother forgave me in a few minutes, because she knew it was an accident, but as I have said before. I find it difficult to forgive myself as I thought the world of it as well.

Frances said...

a charming story Margaret and don't be too hard on yourself, it is always hardest to forgive ourselves,
my mother often makes cutting remarks, I try and hope I do not do it to my children,