The Gift of Frenemies

The following definition is from Wikipedia.com :

"Frenemy" (alternately spelled "frienemy") is a portmanteau of "friend" and "enemy" that can refer to either an enemy pretending to be your friend or someone who really is your friend but is also a rival.[1] The term is used to describe personal, geopolitical, and commercial relationships both among individuals and groups or institutions. The word has appeared in print as early as 1953."

As women, this definition is hardly necessary, as it seems to be a female right of passage to have had experience with the frenemy. Like any other woman out there, I too have had my fair share of experience with frenemies, but it was only in hind-sight that I realized that these experiences were actually a gift. In fact, they very well may have been instrumental in the evolution, and continued success, of Fabulous Shoe Night.

Let me explain ...

My experience with frenemies was truly one of the more bizarre periods of my life. I had decided, over several months, that I no longer wanted to be friends with a particular group of women. There was an increasingly nasty energy that I just wanted no part of. As a whole, they consisted of unnecessary drama, competition, superiority complexes and gossip. Half the time, they weren't even nice to one another. Such pervasive drama was just not my cup of tea. I was a frequent target of their "jokes," and, well … I'm no one's scapegoat. And I was not, by any means, their only target. After gradually pulling away, they eventually noticed, and, strangely enough, that was when things got really vicious.

These women wanted to rip me to pieces from the inside out … emotionally dismember me. They wanted my dignity and self-respect, they wanted me to doubt myself, they even wanted some of my pre-existing friendships, and, in some cases, they got them. They wanted me to care that they had banded together in hatred (actual hatred!) of me, and were infuriated that I just didn't. The fact that I didn't care fueled this hatred, for the more time passed since I had walked away, the more intense their hatred became. 

None of it made sense, but it was clear I was a target … something to kick and put down to make them feel better about themselves, which is the very hallmark of frenemies. And when I decided I was having none of it by showing no reaction to the continuing gossip and drama, they actually got their husbands involved. Bizarre doesn't even begin to describe their collective behavior. I'm sorry, but I'm going to say it … normal people just don't behave like this.

I won't lie … I deeply was affected by this. To put it simply, I was devastated. I wasn't upset that we were no longer friends, for that was 100% my doing. I didn't care that they made it clear they didn't like me … that was actually a compliment of sorts. I was devastated that anyone could be that purposefully, collectively vicious to me. I don't have it in me to treat people as I was treated, and I think that's exactly why I was a target … because they perceived me as weak. But walking away was something they never expected, and by doing so, I took away their perceived power over me … and they were not happy about it.

The next several months were painful … I felt like an open wound. I knew I had done the right thing, for me, in walking away, but there was definitely collateral damage. Mutual, pre-existing friendships I had thought were unbreakable eventually ended. My take on it is that they didn't want to be "next," or simply chose quantity over quality, but I don't think I'll ever know, for I have been more or less shut out. My true friends rallied around me in love and support, and the friendships that ended …. well, it became clear they actually weren't true friends. I realized that, in the end, I hadn't really lost anything worth saving.

It was during this raw period that the seeds of Fabulous Shoe Night began to plant themselves in my mind and heart. This was when I was having dinner with my dear friend Andrea when a woman came over and complimented us on our shoes, and this experience later became the topic of one of my very first blogs. (http://fabulousshoenight.blogspot.com/2011/07/how-we-began.html) Over the next several months, the idea slowly took root, and eventually evolved into what it is now.

Today, Fabulous Shoe Night has grown into a modest success, and the good news is, we're just getting started. Women love the concept, look forward to our events, and our growth has been remarkable for both a new business and a new concept. Charities, restaurants and businesses have contacted us, hearing about our organization, asking how they, too, can get involved. We have held events at locations like Bloomingdales, Saks Fifth Avenue and the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. We've even received press in local magazines, radio interviews and spots on the local news in several locations where we have chapters.

While the press and buzz generated are exciting, I'm most happy about the money we're raising for local charities. This little idea I had is working, and that's evident with every event we hold. 

It was my husband who pointed out that if I were still friends with these women, there would likely be no Fabulous Shoe Night. They would have either undermined my confidence that I could do this, sabotage it completely, or try to wrest control away. I have always said that I got the very idea for Fabulous Shoe Night from God, in answer to my prayers of pointing me in the direction of the true purpose of my life. (http://fabulousshoenight.blogspot.com/2012/10/whenever-i-explain-fabulous-shoe-night.html)  Little did I know that He cleared the path first.

The gift in these seemingly negative experiences with frenemies clearly show us all, with intense clarity, what it is we don't want in life. They show you what you are, what you're made of, and what you will, and will not, tolerate. They clear the way to make room for real, true friendships, for superficial friends could never weather such storms. They show you your very worth, perhaps when you didn't even know it yourself, with laser-like precision. They strip you bare in the most primitive, basic sense of the word … of all pretense, misconception and BS, leaving you with the very essence of what and who you truly are. 

Sadly, my experience was anything but unique, and has undoubtably been shared by most, if not all, women. In your own experience with frenemies, harbor no ill will. In your heart, silently thank them and move on, for now you know better ... and in the words of Maya Angelou, "When you know better, you do better."

We at Fabulous Shoe Night are doing better ... and we hope that you'll join us. I can assure you, whether you know anyone or not, you'll be among friends.

Never violate the sacredness of your individual self-respect. ~~ Theodore Parker

Holding Hands

Aside from the incredible gift of my my three sons, Fabulous Shoe Night has been one of the biggest blessings of my life. In addition to feeling that I have found my life's purpose, what I was truly put on Earth to do, we are doing so much good in the world. And that feels, well ... fabulous.

While we at Fabulous Shoe Night are busy doing what we do best … creating fun events for women that raise money for local charities at the same time, and all the good will and positive feelings that are generated, as with anything in life, it hasn't all been … fabulous.

No matter where you go, or what your intentions are, people are people, and their true colors will come out eventually. Greedy, vicious, envious people will see all the light we are creating, and, like everyone else, be attracted to it … for the wrong reason.

Lets face it … Fabulous Shoe Night is a really good idea, and really good ideas are routinely hijacked by greedy, uncreative, unscrupulous people looking for the easy way out. But … imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery. And while I understand that elements of this little concept I created will likely be copied, and I honestly am flattered, I've learned a few things from the rug burn resulting from their attempts to drag me down.

First of all, let it be said that I can't be dragged down. That will only happen if I allow it by giving up, and that's not about to happen. In a way, I am Fabulous Shoe Night. I'm not only the creator of it, but also the face and voice of the organization. I make the "rules" that make FSN so special … and I do that by following my heart and listening to my intuition. As we grow, I continue to create the representation of FSN through my choice of chapter leaders. It was only when I didn't listen to my intuition that I made bad choices in my eagerness to expand.

I won't get into the gory details here, but I will say that there was what I'll call "unnecessary roughness" in the manner certain people once connected to FSN chose to leave our organization.  The ironic thing is that the way they chose to leave doesn't say anything about me or Fabulous Shoe Night, but instead speaks volumes about them.

I mean, really …. don't people get that??

I think what I found most upsetting was the glaring indicator that I didn't follow my intuition, for I had concerns about them from the very beginning. What was also confusing was the all-consuming zeal that was evident in their attempts to bring me down. On it's most basic level, mean people are, ultimately, profoundly unhappy people. And while I really am sorry that you're so miserable, just go, okay?

I won't lie … the fact that someone was so willfully vicious was disconcerting, to say the least. And that she was on the inside, was even a confidant about my hopes and dreams for the future for FSN, made the betrayal that much more upsetting. I just couldn't make sense of it, other than it was fueled by an envy to take what I created.  

It was shortly after I discovered that things had been purposefully, unnecessarily deleted on my website that my emotions came crashing down on me. I was, quite frankly, really, really depressed. Here we are raising so much money for local charities in our communities, doing actual, tangible good in the world, and I was literally under attack. 

I knew getting any work done that day was futile. On a whim, not knowing what else to do, I decided to visit our friend Archie, the 96 year old father of one of our friends. 

Archie lives in a local nursing home, and has good days and bad days. On a good day, he and my husband will talk for our entire visit, and he'll regale us with stories ranging from childhood memories of sneaking homemade wine from barrels his father stored in the basement to his time served in the war. His recall is nothing short of remarkable, and his quick wit indicates that his mind is as sharp as ever. On the occasional bad day he won't talk much, and it appears that his inner twinkle is gone. But, in typical Archie style, that twinkle magically reappears, without fail, every time I lean in for a kiss.

When I got to his room, Archie was lying in bed, eyes closed. Not sure if he was sleeping or not, I crept in quietly, not wanting to wake him. He must have sensed my presence, for he opened his eyes.  I didn't get the smile I usually receive, and knew immediately that this was a "bad day." 

As I was having a bad day myself, I didn't chatter on as I usually do, trying to elicit a smile; I just sat by his bedside and held his hand. Archie closed his eyes again, and there we sat … content to be in one another's company. Every now and then, I would feel him give my hand a squeeze, and I would squeeze back in return. There was so much communication in that simple gesture, so much being said. More than just chatter, trying to fill empty silences with words, any words, Archie and I are somehow beyond that, for our silences are anything but empty.

Despite the cold, damp dreariness of the weather, my utter confusion and depression about being under attack, the sting of betrayal, and our mutual bad day, my 60 minute visit flew by. Archie didn't drift back to sleep, as I thought he would. We were just there, both of us fully present, enjoying our limited time together. No words needed to be said, nothing explained … we were just there, for each other.

When it was time to go, I leaned in for my customary kiss goodbye, and the twinkle in his eyes returned. Again, as is customary, I told him I loved him, that he is "my favorite," and his twinkle burned a bit brighter. He squeezed my hands tighter in return, and said he loved me, too. As is our routine, I said I loved him more, and he beamed  brighter still, willingly conceding, letting me love him more, allowing himself to be loved more.

As the elevator began it's long descent down, I could feel my heart soaring curiously upward. Nothing was really said during our visit to alleviate the confusion and heaviness that occupied my heart that day; no words of wisdom were imparted, no venting occurred. I simply sat in silence, holding the hand of a 96 year old friend, yet I was undeniably, inexplicably joyful.

My feelings of elation didn't didn't dim that day, but lingered instead. After thinking about it, it became clear that while rotten people abound in this world, that we've all had experiences with similar people, what really matters is the love we share with those we are close to. 

This simple yet profound experience clarified that feelings of love are strong, in fact far stronger, than the negativity others may try to impart on you. And that is precisely why Fabulous Shoe Night will flourish, despite the efforts of those few trying to bring me, and Fabulous Shoe Night, down. Our motivation is pure, fueled simply by love, and deep desire to help others, to make the world a better place. 

At the end of the day, it's all so very, very simple. 

Nothing else really matters.

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.  ~Albert Schweitzer

Follow us on Twitter @FabShoeNight

Into the Ordinary

When I was a little girl, no more than 6 or 7 years old, I had an experience that I would only much later understand to be pivotal in my life.  What was once a confusing experience that turned into a random memory, years later became a message … a message I assumed I had simply misinterpreted for decades. 

Looking back, and now a mother myself, I can see now that I was an unusually contemplative little girl. I was solitary, though not without friends and playmates … more that I just knew I needed periods of solitude. When I wasn't playing outside with the neighborhood kids, I could be found in my room, happily alone, reading, or sometimes, just thinking. I was content with my own company, for it was then I could really think. 

I have no recollection of what transpired leading up to this random event, now so indelibly burned into my memory. I remember I was in the backseat of my family's wood paneled station wagon with my parents and siblings, parked in my aunt's driveway, waiting to pick someone up. It was dark out, and raining. The windshield wipers were on, and the rhythm of their soft swish, swish thump was off-beat to the Neil Diamond song playing on the radio The lights were on outside the garage where we were parked, turning my window into a mirror of sorts. 

I remember looking into my make-shift mirror, staring into my own eyes unrelentingly, much like a child repeats a word over and over again until that word loses all meaning and begins to sound like nonsense. Staring into my eyes, I was pondering my existence, wondering why I was here, what I would be when I grew up, and what it was I was put on earth to do. 

While I was staring into the reflection of my eyes, transfixed by the endless pools of infinity they became that somehow looped back into me, I was overcome with a sudden, intense, yet absolute certainty that when I grew up, I would do something significant … something big.  I had no idea what it was … just the unshakable knowledge that it was absolutely going to happen.

I more or less forgot about the experience entirely until a few years later when I was in the 6th or 7th grade and one of my gym teachers made a comment that brought me right back to that rainy night. Mrs Kaufman was young, a new teacher, and everything a pre-teen girl aspired to be. Petite and pretty, with waist length golden brown hair and a perpetually sunny disposition, she was someone we all looked up to and wanted to be like. She and I must have been chatting, for I remember we were on the sidelines of a game, cheering the players on when she turned to me and said, "Someday I expect to hear great things about you. You are going to do great, important things with your life … I just know it."

Stunned into silence by her comments, I remember thinking two things  simultaneously … namely, "Wow … Mrs Kaufman is really clueless," along with, "She's just saying that to build up the confidence of the little girl that stutters." Because that's who I was, how I identified myself. Didn't she know that, couldn't she see it? Surely she couldn't confuse me with the brash and popular cheerleaders, or the girls with perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect everything. I was the opposite of all that, the little girl who heard "You can't because …." with the unspoken message being, "… because you stutter."  Later, after hearing it often enough, the message turned into " I  can't … because I stutter." 

But while I thought and felt all those accompanying feelings simultaneously, I knew instantly that her comment was somehow related to that rainy night in the car, for it slammed me back in time, back into the backseat of that station wagon with the same dizzying force as any time machine. The comment was related somehow to that long ago memory. I just didn't know how, or why.

Then, as it always seems to, time passed, and the two random memories, connected together by a wisp of a thread, nothing more than a vague feeling that they were connected, faded. I went to high school and college, then later nursing school. 

Occasionally I would remember the two separate instances and struggle to figure out how and why I knew they were connected, but the busy-ness of life would intervene, and they'd get buried back in my subconscious, where, frankly, I felt they belonged.

More years passed, and I married and became a mother. Strangely enough, the memory of that deep flash of knowledge that overcame me that rainy night, the feeling of absolute certainty, along with my gym teacher's words, popped up with confusing frequency. Like persistent little bubbles in a glass of champagne, it was almost as if they were struggling to be acknowledged, not to be denied. When this would happen, I'd just think to myself, "Well ... I was obviously wrong." 

I had to be wrong. Everything I thought about that experience was clearly 100% wrong. While being a mother is arguably the most important job in the world, it just didn't fit within the meaning of the memory of that night. And although it is extraordinary to bring a child into the world, let's face it … it's common place. I knew what I felt, this certainty I couldn't shake, was something more than simply motherhood … but at this point in my life, I felt the opportunity for it to actually happen had, sadly, long passed. 

That was a bitter pill to swallow. I was in my mid-40's at this point, and had no special skills or talents that set me apart, nothing that would point to doing anything out of the ordinary, much less extraordinary. I mean, I was happy … I had a great life, for all intents and purposes … the American Dream. I just couldn't shake a nagging feeling that I didn't live up to that shining potential that seemed such a certainty so long ago. 

When the idea for Fabulous Shoe Night hit me (for indeed, it hit me, like the ton of bricks I became when I fell in the Bellevue the very day the idea struck), I had an inkling that perhaps this might be what I felt so long ago. Even though the idea wasn't yet fully formed, I sensed the potential, the specialness and outright magic … the ability to, if properly executed, change the world.

Over time, and through much trial and error, Fabulous Shoe Night became what it is today. While I don't think we've even begun to scratch the surface of all the good we can do in the world, I know, again with absolute certainly, that even if we never add another chapter or bring the FSN concept to another state, what we are doing is extraordinary.

In 12 short, whirlwind months, we have established 19 chapters in 7 states. That in itself is extraordinary. Add to that that I'm writing approximately $10,000 worth of checks, proceeds from our events, to local charities every month. And yet still, all of our growth has been completely organic. I literally tremble to think of what will happen when Fabulous Shoe Night goes "viral."

So, while I ride this wild ride I'm on, bringing Fabulous Shoe Night and all it's shining potential to help others in the world, my chapter leaders and I go about our daily lives … raising children, working, doing what every other woman does to fulfill the many roles of a woman. But we are also helping raise money and awareness for local charities in our communities one Fabulous Shoe Night event at a time. We are bringing women together at fun social events, highlighting local venues and businesses, raising significant money for local charities, together. 

It's all just blissfully, extraordinarily ordinary.

“Life’s best coaches are those who believe in you and your potential, sometimes even before you do.”   ~~ Lorii Myers

Follow us on Twitter @FabShoeNight

For information  about Fabulous Shoe Night events or staring a chapter in your area, visit www.fabulousshoenight.com .

Tapestry

Believe it or not, sometimes writing my blog can be a love-hate relationship. Surely, much more love than hate, but as busy as I am with Fabulous Shoe Night, fitting time in to actually sit down and write can feel cumbersome. Not because I don't enjoy it … I do, but I suppose it's the way I write. I've got to feel the topic … you know, really feel it.

Oftentimes, when I begin writing a blog post, I don't have much more than a vague theme in mind, or, sometimes just a title, and nothing more. But always, it's something that not only resonates with me, but is somehow related  to what is currently going on with Fabulous Shoe Night. Frequently as I write, I feel like I am piecing together a puzzle, unsure of what the final picture will look like until it's completed. It's always a mystery that I must wait to reveal itself, and it surprises me every time.

This is perhaps best illustrated by my "Feathering My Nest" post. (http://fabulousshoenight.blogspot.com/2012/09/feathering-my-nest.html) I began by writing about my need for a dedicated office space now that FSN has become, through a life of it's own, my full-time job. As often happens when I write, the post meandered, this time into my decorating choices, which "revealed" to me my, up until then, unrecognized, wholly unconscious love of birds. How could I not have noticed until I began writing that post that there are  birds in some form or another literally all over my house? The post then morphed a second time, with yet another realization, that the frequent visitor on my deck was a bird … a mourning dove, specifically. A peek at Google revealed that the mourning dove is the harbinger of hope, which was the final piece that allowed me to  finish the puzzle, and really see the picture, whole and complete. I thought I was writing about my new office when I began, but a deeper meaning was there all along … under my nose, really. I just had to be patient and let it reveal itself to me.

When I first began writing my blog, I used to ask my husband to read through the posts before I published them on the blog site. Not because I needed approval, but literally, to see if they made sense. I so often felt that when I was deeply within the process of the words revealing themselves to me on the screen of my laptop, that I was too close to see if these pieced together, seemingly unrelated fragments in my head translated to a whole, complete picture in the end. I was deep within the trees, searching for the forest … disoriented, dizzy, lost.

Over time I began to see that most of my blog posts each carry several themes, and my job was to weave all the different ideas swimming in my head into a cohesive picture. It was as if each idea was a different color thread, and my challenge was to weave them all into a picture  that made sense, that others could actually see.

 I'd so often sit at my desk, in my new, decorated-just-for-me office, staring blankly into space, seeing nothing around me, as thoughts swirled about that I had to try to capture and wrestle into words. Most of my writing is done like this … staring, motionless, followed by brief, staccato bursts of typing, only to lapse back into repeated long spells of silent searching.

Somehow, despite my fear that I'm incapable of weaving these fragments of my thoughts into a cohesive picture, a blog post would emerge, and not only make sense, but somehow manage to convey what was in my heart about Fabulous Shoe Night. For FSN has colored my life in so many different ways … in wonderful new friendships, and the deepening of existing ones; in personal growth, and the expansion of my many, self-restricting comfort zones; in the richness of hard learned lessons about the not-so-nice side of some people, and their eventual extraction from my life, just to name a few.

And now, it's happening again … as I write, the deeper message reveals itself, previously unrecognized ... in fact, un-thought of. If I take a step back, further back, and look down on the forest, out of the confusing maze of the trees, I see that Fabulous Shoe Night is weaving itself into a beautiful, richly detailed tapestry. 

Our chapter leaders are the threads, bringing strength, form and color to the tapestry. I see each of them as a unique and beautiful color, bringing their own special skills, talents, and ideas to the Fabulous Shoe Night model. Through their enthusiasm and hard work, their reach stretches further, weaving, if you will, to connect with different people, encompassing the charities we work with, the women attending our events, and the businesses that participate. 

As Fabulous Shoe Night adds chapters throughout the country, the weaving continues as our reach stretches further. For Fabulous Shoe Night is, at it's most basic level, about building relationships. We are bringing people together, in fun, friendship, business and charity, drawing communities closer together, helping those in need, and weaving tighter bonds among us all. 

 Just as I had no idea of what this blog post would actually be about when I sat down to write it, the intricacies of all that Fabulous Shoe Night is becoming have yet to be revealed. All I know is that the final picture will be more beautiful, richly detailed and fabulous than anything I could have ever conjured up or imagined on my own. I also know that with the love, compassion, and dedication involved as we continue to weave this sisterhood that's forming before our very eyes, once revealed, will take our breath away.

"We cannot live just for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us to our fellow men"   ~~ Herman Melville

The "B"Word

I always said that if I were ever blessed with a daughter, I would want a spunky girl … not some shy, wilting wallflower people would try walk all over. It seems a lot of women of my generation were raised to "be nice" to avoid "offending" someone or appearing "rude."  While it's a good concept in theory, in practice it can send the wrong message, often to our own detriment.

Although I hate to admit it, for a long time, I was one of those women who was "nice" … so nice that sometimes others tried to take advantage where they thought they could.

How sad is it that some people see another's good nature as a sign of weakness? I may be nice, but let's be honest here … I'm no dummy. That's where I've often been underestimated, and secretly, I love to be underestimated. There's nothing quite like the satisfaction of sweetly, politely, yet firmly pulling the rug out beneath someone who's trying to pull one over on you.

Since the inception of Fabulous Shoe Night, I've learned more than I ever dreamed possible about this not-so-nice side of people. Looking back, I see now that not only was I was naive, but some of it was actually my own fault. I was too trusting, never thinking that the motives of others may be less than pure.

One of my dearest friends,  David, warned me of this long before I experienced any real ramifications. Coming into the Fabulous Shoe Night idea with literally zero business experience (I used to be a nurse, then stayed home to raise my boys for 15 years), I frequently said different variations of, "I don't know what I'm doing! … I'm making this up as I go along! … I'm flying by the seat of my Spanx!" 

While I very well may have been flying by the seat of my Spanx, David would scold me nonetheless. "Would you stop saying that??" he'd say crossly. "You do know what you're doing, and if you keep saying that, someone is going to try to take advantage of you!!"

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for that to happen. There was the (now former) advisory board member who told me I "wouldn't always have control over FSN," and that she and the other advisory board members "could someday vote against you and even vote you out of Fabulous Shoe Night altogether."  Hmmm … really? Well, thanks for the tip, Sweetheart! By that next week, papers had already been filed naming me sole owner of Fabulous Shoe Night, something my attorney husband had been after me to do anyway. Oh, and … she was removed from the advisory board.

Another lesson came in the form of a potential chapter leader whose boyfriend was an attorney. When she told me that, and said he "had some problems" with the contract I require all chapter leaders to sign, I stayed silent, but inwardly thought, "Oh, really? How cute. My 'boyfriend' is an attorney, too … for 22 years now!" They proposed a revision of the existing contract to state that I would be unable to hire another chapter leader within a 50 mile radius of her chapter. Um, I'm sorry … let me get this straight. You want complete and utter control of the growth of the organization I  formed, within 50 miles of where I formed it ?? 

Humph.  Not likely, but I do have one word for you, Honey …

"Next!!!"

While it didn't exactly happen often, it happened often enough where I'd see that certain people mistook my niceness for naiveté, or worse, downright stupidity. But that was okay, as it gave me an unseen, and certainly unexpected, edge.

Always one to look on the positive side,  as vexing and obnoxious as these people were, I can't deny that they taught me a lot.  I've learned that  although I went to nursing school and not business school, I do know exactly what I'm doing when it comes to Fabulous Shoe Night. I learned to trust my intuition, because it's not only good, but dead-on. I learned to immediately cut off business ties that set off my inner warning bells … because when I don't, I unfailingly regret it later. 

 

I also learned to always be nice, but at the same time have an iron will and unshakable confidence, because if certain people sense otherwise, they'll try to use it to their advantage. 

So, if you find I'm polite yet firm, open to suggestions, but stand my ground,  singularly focused on my vision and ultimate goal, not to be deterred,  please … don't be offended or take it personally. Just know that I'm secure in who I am and sure of what it is I want to accomplish. Because at the end of the day, this is business, with a capital "B," and I am a businesswoman. 

Wait … ? What …?? 

You were thinking of another "B" word …?

"Dealing with people is probably the biggest problem you face, especially if you are in business. Yes, and that is also true if you are a housewife, architect or engineer." ~~ Dale Carnegie

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I Believe

As the 2012 Christmas season has come to a close, I realized that I reached the point in the road of parenthood where two out of my three boys (sadly) no longer believe in Santa Claus. Of course, I knew this years ago … my two oldest are 16 and 14,  but as parents, this was our last year of Santa … ever. 

Our youngest, Liam, is 10, and a die-hard believer. He's got nary a doubt in is adorable little head, and went around joyfully, unselfconsciously singing Christmas songs, making lists and checking them twice. Occasionally my oldest son challenged me to finally "admit once and for all" that there is no Santa, but I couldn't. I won't. Ever. Ever. 

Because I can't.

Is there a chubby, white-bearded man in a fur-trimmed red suit who lives in the North Pole and makes toys year round with the help of elves? Well … I can't say definitively because I've never actually seen him, the elves or the North Pole. I've never actually seen $100 million dollars either, for that matter, but does that mean it doesn't exist? What about hope, love or faith? Surely we know, definitively, that they exist … yet we haven't seen them, either, at least not tangibly. But have we?

Just as hope, love and faith surely exist, so does the Christmas spirit, and I saw it, with my own eyes, up close and very personal … in a Target store outside of Las Vegas, of all places.

The mission and very heart of Fabulous Shoe Night is to benefit local charities … those small, often struggling, charities that help real people, in our own backyards. My chapter leaders are wonderfully adept at finding these smaller, special non-profits that operate on shoe-string budgets and provide tangible goods and services to the needy in their communities. Julie, our Las Vegas chapter leader, chose one such non-profit, with a very timely event that, unbeknownst to us, turned out to have a huge dose of Christmas magic built in.

The Santa Cops program pairs police officers from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police with needy children, nominated by officers who encounter struggling families while on duty. Fund raising throughout the year culminates in a shopping trip at a local Target to buy Christmas presents for the children nominated. Oftentimes, these are the only gifts the children will receive.

The first hint of Christmas magic came when we discovered that this once a year, very special shopping trip was scheduled the day after our Fabulous Shoe Night event to benefit Santa Cops. This was not planned, and purely serendipitous. That night at FSN, one of the officers in attendance told us how appreciative they were of our event, as they hadn't yet hit their donation goal for 2012, and were worried some names would have to be crossed off the list due to lack of funds. A second dose of Christmas magic came when the money raised at Fabulous Shoe Night actually helped Santa Cops exceed their annual goal. 

The next morning, Target opened their doors at 6:30 AM for the Santa Cops event. While I've never been a morning person, I woke before the 5:45 alarm to catch our 6:15 ride. When we arrived, a large crowd had already assembled in the parking lot. It appeared most of the LV Metro Police force was there, along with several police dogs and two police horses. What I didn't know was that Santa himself would be arriving soon, by helicopter no less, to start the event in style. As his chopper approached the parking lot, wind whipping my hair into a frenzy, I jumped, clapped and waved right along with the children all around me. Looking at their excitement and awe, seeing the hope and magic that Santa represents reflected in their faces, I wiped away tears, pretending the gusts from the helicopter made my eyes water. There's just something about Santa that makes me feel like a 6 year old again, and I hope I never lose that feeling.

At Santa Cops, each child is paired with a police officer to shop for their gifts. Even their parents aren't permitted to shop with the children and officers, but wait in the food court area of the store. This year, the officers were given a $130 Target gift card to spend for each child. Julie and I were lucky enough to tag along with a Captain on the force, who was paired with Casey, a petite, quiet 6 year old who seemed overwhelmed with the entire experience.

In hindsight, I can only imagine how daunting it must have felt to a 6 year old to have three adults literally in your face, asking what you want to shop for first. There we were, offering Casey virtually anything she wanted in the store, only to get the reality check of our lives when she looked at the floor, refusing to meet our eyes, and whispered, "I need warm boots."

Julie and I looked at each other. There were two ways to take this; either we had a budding shoe-girl in our midst, or Casey knew she had to go for warmth and practicality over the frivolity of toys. With tears in our eyes, we headed to the shoe department.

Once we got Casey situated with warm boots and a funky pair of metallic blue high-tops that caught her eye, (after all, who were we to question the impulse shoe purchase?) we asked if she wanted to go to the toy department next. Did she want a bike? A doll? Legos? Play Doh? We were practically begging her … the world is your oyster for the next hour, Casey … let us give you anything you want. Anything … just tell us and we'll make it happen.

I saw the hesitation in her face when we were tempting her with all the different goodies in the toy department. As she stared at the floor, I asked "How about a coat? Do you need some warm clothes?" Casey almost looked relieved at my suggestion, met my eye, and said, "Yes … I need warm clothes." Again, Julie and I made eye contact, and without a word between us, I felt our hearts jointly break.  

At the other end of a long aisle, I noticed a big, hulking, burly police officer, walking hand in hand with a child who was no more than three. The glaring disparity in their sizes, his gentle voice, and the evident trust between them brought a fresh wave of tears over me. There is so much horror in our world … poverty, abuse, hunger, injustice. But there is also so much good, and I was seeing it, all around me, in Target. I felt so privileged to be in that little bubble of good that day, in our very own snow globe of Christmas spirit, goodwill and love.

Once in the girl's department, we piled warm shirts, socks, a faux fur trimmed hoodie and more into Casey's cart. At that point, we all knew that the contents of the cart far exceeded the $130 allotted on the gift card. We hadn't even hit the toy department yet, but our excitement bubbled over. Everyone's did. The Captain told us that every year the children's check-out totals exceed the gift card limit, and the officers all reach into their own pockets and pay the difference. 

So, while I actually did see the man in the red suit that day, there was overwhelming evidence that everything he stands for was all around us. I saw kindness and laughter, the beaming faces of underprivileged children, and infinite generosity. I saw trust and tenderness between children and the officers they had just met. I saw gratitude, and a resolute determination to make a difference. I saw joy, and I saw love. 

Was Santa there? No … I don't think so. But I know that everything I saw in that Target store in Las Vegas would have made him proud. See for yourself ... and make sure you watch to the very, very end!

http://youtu.be/00JLyAqPHf4


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