Why Not Everything Becomes a Hand-Me-Down

June came home today and told me,

"I don't need these shoes anymore."

No kidding. I think you have gotten all the use you are going to get out of them (and perhaps a bit more).

She will make a good missionary.

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The following comes from Raging Stallion, who felt it appropriate to add to the post:

As the only missionary in the family I bear a mantle of missionary history. That means that if there is need for a mission story, I'm it. If there's a need for a missionary experience, I'm it. If there's a need for clarification of missionary-related information, I'm it. Thankfully, I am prepared. Among family I am known as Elder Cazier II. Among some Brazilians, I am known as "O Leão de Sião," (The Lion of Zion).

Without getting too much into that (you who know, know I'll go on for hours—), there's a need for missionary-ness here, which I'm all too happy to provide. The astute reader has already noticed the word "missionary" above in reference to shoes. If you went to a walking mission (not these posh bike missions, or *gasp* a car mission), you know what happens to your shoes. For those of you who don't know, here's what they look like. These are my old friends. They have carried me through dust and mud, tears and blood. They've held me together when the path is hard, and tripped me up when my pride was full. These shoes have been with me through thick and thin—robberies and baptisms alike. They are as much a part of my mission as I am. As my soul was worn out in the service, so too were their soles. These were my best companions. My daughters have some pretty well-worn shoes to fill.

And hey, they still fit. :)