The little red rain boots

They still had plenty of puddle jumps left, I thought, looking at the treads on the children’s rain boots that a friend had given us. They had been loved and worn before, and yet their tart-cherry shine made them look almost new.As a parent of three, I had watched our children leave a trail of rapid-growth hatch marks that climbed the kitchen wall as fast as grapevines. So I welcomed a bag of gently used footwear and clothing, to keep pace, like a casserole on a cold winter’s night.Feeling grateful, I dropped the boots by the back door, where they seemed to beckon: Click my heels – let’s play. Our oldest was the first to discover they were a perfect fit, rain or shine. He tugged them on and ran outside to wage battle against Voldemort. He also discovered that a good pair of galoshes was all he needed to chase down the ice cream truck. During a time when mass consumption hit its prime, it was common practice for our family and others to find new homes for outgrown items like bikes, jackets, and costumes – often donated or sold at garage-sale prices. We tried to manage our carbon footprint as best we could, and paid the generosity forward.Along with gifting, there was plenty of thrifting. When someone needed new soccer cleats, we trolled the aisles of a local used sporting goods shop. Time for a larger desk? We’d scroll through the virtual yard sale. For almost anything else, it was the general store of the gently used: Hand Me Downs. That’s where I found corduroys as thick as leather with good knees, picture books that could lie flat on small laps like welcome mats, sundresses dotted with canary-yellow buds, and puzzles that had been conquered and reboxed.The rain boots were something new, perhaps the most durable hand-me-down we had ever owned. Rain gear isn’t exactly everyday wear, so it’s easy to pass along, almost new-with-tags. And never underestimate the stamina of well-made rubber soles. We live a block from school, so driving was not an option, even when the weather turned the 264-step trot (we counted once) into a backpacking trek against the forces of nature. Those mighty little rain boots proved a first line of defense so that “neither snow nor rain,” nor too many puddles, to take liberties with the Postal Service motto, could stop our students from arriving at the school’s back entrance.When our oldest outgrew them, our middle child discovered they were perfect for digging in the mud when he created a hobbit hole for a family of potato people. And they helped him gain traction in the pedal car. An inventive child, he layered wool socks under those boots when the weather turned cold for added insulation, and perhaps also to hang on a bit longer. But faster than you can say “high waters,” he outgrew them.Yet the shine lingered. Now, it was our daughter’s turn, and she was determined to make full use of them.One afternoon, she pulled on the boots with her most vibrant floral sundress, grabbed a bucket, and headed to the backyard to climb the cherry tree and gather the fruit. It was time for annual pie-making. Her mission: to harvest the brightest, ripest tart cherries before the birds picked the branches clean.I noticed she tugged a little harder to get those boots on, and her toes were hitting the tips. Thirty minutes later, she showed up in the kitchen with a crimson, broad smile. We stood over the counter pitting and boiling cherries. Then, we mixed in sugar, cornstarch, and a teaspoon of almond extract, and we rolled the pie dough. I was pretty sure this would be her last run with the “ruby rain slippers.” A chapter in shared family footwear was over.Sure enough, not long after, she tried to squeeze her heels into the boots and frowned. “Mom, I can’t get my feet in!” she exclaimed. She tried wearing no socks and walking as if she had high heels on, but her feet wouldn’t slide into the cradles. Deepen your worldviewwith Monitor Highlights.Politics with respectGet political stories with respectful analysis.There‘s a world of new ideas in everyBooks newsletter.There‘s more to life, enrich yours withCulture & Learning weekly.Follow humanity‘s discoveries withScience & Nature stories in your inbox.Gain a spiritual perspectivefrom the stories in your inbox.Want to understand the deeper impact of critical events? Learn the Monitor‘s insight.Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads. We carefully wiped down the boots – happy to have hosted them on their journey – and set them in a brown paper bag, a bit more tarnished than when they arrived. Then, we walked across the street and dropped the parcel on a young family’s porch, where they stood ready for their next jump around the block.In childhood, so many things are outgrown in a blink. But pieces from those fleeting years, like the rain boots and their memories, move forward with us. Thanks to those little galoshes, the cherry pies we made that summer tasted extra sweet. ALREADY A SUBSCRIBER? LoginReal news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.The Christian Science Monitor was founded in 1908 to lift the standard of journalism and uplift humanity. We aim to “speak the truth in love.” Our goal is not to tell you what to think, but to give you the essential knowledge and understanding to come to your own intelligent conclusions. Join us in this mission by subscribing.