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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1779651-The-Value-of-Boots
Rated: E · Essay · Emotional · #1779651
do you ever think about something you use every day? do you know what it thinks of you?
I am boots. I am not just any boots, but cowboy boots. I am Meg’s favorite pair of shoes. Meg always says, a good pair of boots is like a friend that will go anywhere with you.

I was found in a clothes closet, the dog pound for clothes. I wasn’t the prettiest pair in the stack of shoes over in the corner. I was faded, scratched, and worn. When Meg walked over and she looked down, her eyes when right to me. Meg didn’t see the scratches or the spots at the tip where the color was worn. What she saw was my worth. She saw a good pair of boots. A pair of boots that would follow her anywhere and I do.

Ever sense that great day when Meg picked me, we have been the best of friends. I have always been there for her. It has been a year and we are still together. Meg reaches for me and I knew we would be going somewhere important today. Meg always grabs me when she has to do something hard or unpleasant. Meg knows I will take care of her, she knows I will be there for her. As Meg pulls me over her foot, I start to think of all the places we have gone together.

I was there when Meg went on her first plane ride, when she was all alone and scared but to proud to admit it. It was just after Christmas and Meg was going to see her Grandmother. Meg’s mother walked her to the security check point.

“Well this is as far as I go” Meg’s mother was trying no to show how frightened for Meg she was. “I guess I will see you when you get back”

“Yup” Meg was also trying not to show her fear. “I guess I’ll see you in a week.” Meg and her mother exchanged warm goodbyes, and Meg promised herself that she would call every night. I hugged her feet and assured her that she could put one foot in front of the other and walk away. Meg did cry a little as the plane took her away from her home, alone, for her first time. I kept silent as Meg looked out the window, to the place the she would be separated from for a whole week.

The places we go now are not as exotic and often not as exiting. I walk with her, supporting her though the many adventures and the many average days. We need each other. Without her I would be just a pair of boots, and if she had not picked me she would have lost a good and dependable friend. Too many people overlook a little thing like boots. If people stop to think about how their shoes, whether they be boots sandals or a good pair of pumps, support them and take them where they need to go.

Meg wore me again on her return trip. This time it was more enjoyable. Meg and I were so exited to go back home. Meg had bought herself a new hat, a cowboy hat. Meg had stuffed her other hat into her bag, it still stuck out. Seeing how she didn’t care whether her other things stuck out, reminded me of how much care she uses when handling me. It makes a pair of boots start to think of how good they got it.

“Don’t you need a spare hat?” the voice came from be hind her. Meg turned around she saw a rather plump man, with I face that has been turned red by the sun. He was clearly looking the second hat sticking out of her bag The man laugh shook his whole body, not in the good Santa way but in the creepy and insulting way.

“No, I already have a spare” Meg tried with all her might to bring every ounce of her southern nature into her voice. Meg knew the man thought it was funny to wear one hat and carry another. Meg also knew he probably didn’t mean to offend her; he just wanted to make a joke. When Meg began to feel like she had been the one to be mean, I gave her a sharp tug, and reminded her that she wasn’t the one who started throwing insults at a stranger. Somehow we made it home alright.

Meg looks at me as I snuggled her feet, as if she is remembering the same thing. Meg stands and grabs her book bag.

Oh good I think, I just love going to school. I can remember her first day of school; it didn’t happen when she was five years old like most people, her first day of school was when she was much older. I chuckle to myself as my thoughts drifts back to that cold day.

It was Meg’s first day of college, not only was she only sixteen, but this was her first day in public school. Meg was feeling weird and extremely young and I helped her feel strong and confident. With me at her side, she knew she couldn’t quite just because she didn’t fit in.

Meg walked into class feeling two feet tall. She sat close to the front, but not in the front row. Meg was muttering to herself while she was solving the math problem. When Meg turned around she saw that the guy beside her was staring.

“Yeah, I am a dork.” Meg muttered.

“Nah, its cool” the guy said.

I tugged a little on her foot as if saying, “I told you so, it alright, your fine.” And she was. It was so long ago, but it was a day I remember clearly

Whenever Meg has a big day and needs comfort and encouragement turns to me. I always let her know that it will be alright. Meg trusts me, and with good reason; I have never let her lose her footing.

As Meg and I sit in the car on the way to the collage, we listen to music. As the radio plays one of our favorite songs. I want to dance to the song, and then Meg starts to tap her foot. It is amazing how we fit perfectly together. Meg is the only one that understands that I am more then just a worn out pair of boots. Meg knows my value.
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