I have walked long enough with these shoes.
When I was in third grade. My teacher had us all dress up in these really cool outfits like people from Dutchland. We were all given wooden shoes and we burned our names in the bottom of them. We did clog dancing and performed poems. We had a few skits including the boy who put his finger in the dike to keep the water from flooding the town.  I was given the poem “The Owl and the Pussy Cat” by Edward Lear to perform, I memorized it and was the only one to memorize their poem.  The teacher (who was a new teacher for me since we had just moved a couple weeks before hand) told me I was the smartest student ever. I have struggled to keep that fascade all these years. Today as I am preparing to move and clearing out the past, I ran into these shoes in a box that I have been carrying around for over 30 years. I find myself realizing how much that one event has shaped the person I am at this moment. I have a gigantic collection of owls and even of shoes. Today I am letting go of my shoes. I am letting go of the pain I felt being made fun of by the older children for our costumes. I am letting go of needing to be the smartest one in the class. I am letting go of hoarding things that are no longer of any use to me. So here is the Edward Lear Poem and a picture of the shoes I can no longer fill.
| The Owl and the Pussycat poem | |
| The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, “O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are, What a beautiful Pussy you are.” Pussy said to the Owl “You elegant fowl, How charmingly sweet you sing. O let us be married, too long we have tarried; But what shall we do for a ring?” They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the Bong-tree grows, And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose, With a ring at the end of his nose. “Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will” So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon. And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand. They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon, They danced by the light of the moon |
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