Let me tell you a story that went something like this. . .

“Whatever are we going to do?”  My older sister moaned, as we looked at the beautiful dresses our mother had finished sewing for the upcoming beauty pageant.

The pageant was not an optional event.  It was required as a part of our Home Economics class, and our grade for the semester was tied closely to our participation.

The small country school we attended held a beauty pageant each spring that included contestants from elementary through high school.  My sister and I were one year apart in high school, with several younger siblings coming along behind us.  It seemed every time we turned around there were additional costs for school expenses.

Ours was a poor hill family, living in the Ozark Mountains of northern Arkansas.  To find the money for real necessities was difficult enough, much less for those things Daddy called frivolities, such as a beauty pageant.

Our dilemma this time was the fact that while Mama had been able to find material and make each of us, as well as our younger sister, a beautiful dress to wear to the event, we had no shoes.  Now, while clothes may not make the man, or woman for that matter, shoes have certainly been known to make or break a fashion statement!

While granted, in the light of eternity, and with all that God has on His plate on any given day, this may not have measured up as a national catastrophe!  Yet, it was very big problem for us on that beautiful spring morning in 1970.

Hearing my sister’s remark, Mama urged us girls to all gather round her before the big yellow school bus pulled up in front of our home.  Asking us to hold hands, Mama prayed a simple prayer of faith.

“Father,” she whispered, “these are my girls.  You gave them to me to care for and to teach your ways.  Lord, we have a real need here today.  In order for the girls to make their grade in the class at school, they must be in the pageant tonight.  Now Father, I’ve done my part.  I have cut, pieced together, and sewn their dresses as best as I know how to do.  But Father, I simply cannot make a pair of shoes.  This is up to you.  If you want my girls to be able to go forward and do what is expected of them, then I expect you to do as your Word says and to provide all of our needs, according to your riches in glory. . .  Amen.”

Smiling at us, Mama quietly proclaimed.  “He’ll take care of it.  You go on to school now and don’t worry about it.  I believe that before the pageant tonight, our heavenly Father will provide.”

All day while at school, I kept wondering how on earth, God, who had so many more important things to worry about, was going to answer my Mama’s prayer.  Oh, I had no doubt that He would.  I had seen her pray for things before that another would not have dared to take before the throne of Grace.  God had never failed to answer her prayers, yet.

As we rode the bus home from school late that afternoon, I began to fret just a bit.  I wondered if Mama had somehow gone to town and purchased us each a pair of shoes.  However, I knew deep inside that she had no money to do such a thing.

Stepping into the front aisle of the bus as the driver pulled up in front of our home, I hesitated as Mr. Kunkle, our bus driver said, “Nettie, can I give you something?”

Handing me a large brown paper bag that was wrinkled and rolled down at the top, he said somewhat apologetically, “My wife Suzie asked me to make sure and not forget to give you this when I dropped you off this afternoon.  She would have my hide if I forgot.  I don’t know if you girls or your mama can use these things, but Suzie felt sure they were supposed to go to you.”

Curious, I smiled and thanked him.  I figured it was a bag of garden vegetables or some such item.  It felt quite heavy.

Running toward the house, I shouted at my sisters to go with me to give the bag to Mama.  As we stood watching, she opened the bag and looked inside.  The biggest smile came across her face as she whispered, “Thank you Jesus!”

Dumping the contents of the bag on the living room rug, we saw that there were four pairs of dress shoes.  One pair was white heels, and was just the size my older sister needed.  They worked perfectly with her pale blue formal!  Another pair was black and was just my size.  They were an exact match with my deep rose colored satin gown. . . and of course there was a pair that exactly fit our younger sister and was the perfect match for her golden chiffon dress as well.

The fourth pair of shoes lay on the floor alone.  They were rather simple; a multi color brown.

As Mama reached down and picked up that fourth pair, tears began streaming from her eyes.

“Lord,” she murmured, “I didn’t even dare to ask for a pair for myself, and yet You have provided.  Thank you Father, for restoring my faith this day.”

Yes, that fourth pair of shoes were a perfect fit for our Mama.  And strangely enough, they perfectly matched her little brown and beige handbag.  The only one she had to carry that spring.

We learned once again that God is our provider. . .  even for something as small as a pair of shoes.