By Catherine McBride
Baby’s feet are tender, tiny, pink, and sweet;
Rosebud toes are curled tight, wrinkles soft and deep.
Baby’s feet are clumsy, and fumble as she tries.
Hands and knees and triumph, then disappointed cries.
Baby’s feet are strong now; chubby legs are brave,
Walking and running fast toward Mama’s arms that save.
Child’s feet are big now, adventuring through each day,
Hardening and growing, worn and scratched with play.
Big girl’s shoes are tied alone, with stubborn big-girl hands.
Nails gleefully painted red; Mama’s shoes are in demand.
Big girl’s feet are too small for who she wants to be.
She’s learned to paint nails right and hopes her friends will let her be.
Teenager’s feet are worried, cleaned and soaked with care.
Calluses are scrubbed away. Mockery’s hard to bear.
Woman’s feet are tired, and ache from constant use,
Often rough and sore now, abused by pretty shoes.
Mother’s feet are neglected, with callused heels and toes.
But she’s not looking down; her tired face somehow still glows.
Her baby’s feet are kissed and held; fragile toes amaze.
Mama prays they’ll grow up strong in time, but wishes they’d never change.
Catherine McBride is an eighteen-year-old Christian homeschooler who writes fiction and poetry. She has published a short story called “Ruins” and the children’s book Katie Koala (which was illustrated by her younger sister), has written several poems, and is currently working hard on two full-length novels. Beautiful sad things are irresistible to her, as are animals, dancing, ruins, motorcycles, and music. She lives in rural Tennessee with her family, and she owes her writing to them, her three best friends, and the gorgeous view, all gifts from God. You can follow her on Instagram here.