I had this pair of sandals. They were cute, comfortable and made of leather. And I just couldn’t take it anymore! The sandals were my breaking point. Like everything else in the tropics, they were moldy and if I had to clean them one more time, I was going to lose it. Surely my mold cleaning powers were much better spent on things like my bathroom cabinets, my wardrobe and my pot handles. So, in one satisfying toss, I threw the sandals away.

The next day was trash day. The moldy sandals were going to be gone from my life forever!

And then I was knocked off my feet with humility.

My house helper came to me holding the now clean, cute and comfortable leather sandals. She had dug them out of the trash, picked them clean of the potato peels and onion skins, and then scrubbed them free of mold. She quietly asked me if she could have them. I was ashamed that I hadn’t thought to offer them to her first. But they were about four sizes too big for her and, honestly, I just didn’t want to deal with them anymore. Embarrassed and completely humbled, I told her she could have them. These shoes that I so easily threw away because they were too inconvenient to clean, would double the size of her shoe collection. She smiled and walked away, hugging her new sandals to her chest.

I still have a lot of sandals. It’s true. I like shoes. And I don’t think that it’s wrong to like shoes, but still, I needed that simple reminder that they are something to be grateful for.