Alma’s Shoes

Reservoirs of Alma Hunt stories are etched deep within my heart. Reflecting upon my own personal journey “after God’s own heart” a heartfelt memory surfaces. One summer I notified Miss Alma of my impending arrival in Roanoke. Via phone we cooked up a plan for her to join me on my stay in the area. Confident our conversation would be a never-ending dialogue, we secured a hotel near a restaurant to aid in lengthening our time together.

After a night's discussion catching up on the latest happenings within our missions family and world network of friends, a quick sleep prepared us for the day. Dressed and ready, Miss Alma's voice seemed somewhat demanding. The tone denoted a sense of urgency. Having captured my full attention, she complained her shoes no longer fit. It appeared some overnight condition had beset her, causing her feet to shrink. My mind wondered, could it be heart failure? Maybe we should call the doctor. But putting first things first, Miss Alma and I made our way across the hotel parking lot converging upon an “all-you-can-eat” breakfast buffet. After all, food is one of Miss Alma's priorities. But feeding souls and sharing Christ's love are the number one activities of her enlarged heart. No stress test has the capacity to measure her immense commitment to missions.

With the meal completed, Alma and I began the journey back to the hotel. Each step she took, her feet would depart from her shoes, creating a shuffle, scoot, and drag rhythm to her walk. Though the Virginia lady was definitely bewildered and perplexed by the challenge presenting itself, she kept her focus and moved on. Observing her difficulty and seeking to make some sense out of the situation, I inquired, “Could this be some pre-heart attack warning or circulatory problem?” Alma's reply was, “I don't know.”

Upon our return to the hotel, I quickly unlocked the door. As my eyes surveyed the surroundings, I spied Miss Alma's shoes neatly resting beneath her suitcase. Gazing across the floor I saw that my own black shoes were missing. With uncontrollable laughter, I ushered Miss Alma into the room and seated her on the edge of the bed. Picking up her shoes, I kneeled at her side and exchanged them for the ill fitting ones dangling from her feet.

With words of affirmation, Miss Alma said, “I sure can't fill your shoes!”

During this season of the Alma Hunt Offering for Virginia Missions, let us be reminded that no one can fill our shoes. Our individual gifts of service, prayer and financial contribution are greatly needed. In 2003 may our journey to the people in Virginia and around the world bare sacrificial footprints of love and care.

Faithfully,
J. Earlene Jessee