Yesterday a charity in Minneapolis received a surprise gift from the Vatican, from the Pope Himself even. It was 2 boxes of Italian shoes that were to be distributed to the homeless. Now I would never question the motives of the Pope, but have you ever worn Italian shoes?
Let me tell you, I've worn plenty. In fact, I bet they are the reason for my present podiatric problems. Do we really want to afflict any more suffering upon the poor? I know, I know at least they have shoes.
I wonder why He didn't just send a couple of boxes of Birkenstocks? He is German, after all. Maybe it was in the name of fashion, not comfort.
By the second day pounding the cobblestones in Rome, I was starting to spiral downward into a depression because my feet were in such pain. John said that if I was living in Alabama on welfare, pregnant and addicted to crack then I could be depressed. I was in Rome for God sakes!
Then I remembered the deformed pigeon I saw in San Marco Square in Venice. He was hobbling around with no feet, just stumps. Like me, he had no reason to complain because at least he was in Italy.