When None of Us Wore Shoes

It was about 13 F outside, and snow and ice were packed hard on the ground. The older woman wrapped in scarves and jewelry next to me slyly pulled up one leg of her floor length bell-bottomed pants to reveal a naked foot.

"I love being barefoot," she said, smiling. "It's something left over from my years in Gaborone, where my husband was an architect and I was a city planner. The days my children were young, and none of us wore shoes. To this day, almost 40 years later, when I put on shoes, I feel like I lose a part of me."

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