ORANGE SHOES

I became aware of her first in the lobby. My eyes were directed downward to the pattern of the carpet. The little orange shoes moved swiftly across the floor. They were set down firmly, purposefully, obviously with a goal in mind. Where do those shoes scurry, to what appointed destination do they travel I wondered, and then, turning into a small cubicle, we came face-to-face...

Her name is Megan. Her favorite color is pink. She likes to listen to the music of Sinatra, to bake delectable tid-bits for all, vacation at the beach, have ice cream cones from Kline’s, and interact with a multitude of people. The more divergent the age, background, and attitude of her associates, the greater the experience of learning with others both like and unlike herself, the more she welcomes the challenge. She lives with her mother and two siblings in Gloucester, VA. Her mother is employed, among other things, as a C.P.A. and wields a strong influence over Megan. To say that her mother is a reliable guide is verified by all that Megan has accomplished already. The classes, the homework, the discipline necessary for managing the usage of time and effort to the final exam speak volumes forward to uncharted territory ahead.

The little orange shoes will select a path through the pot-holes of life. The right path might not always be the one selected and disaster may prevail, but you are not to be afraid, for FAILURE is the stuff of which MIRACLES are made. --Gini Reese