Mind Over Matter

I was a sickly child. If I wasn't catching a humble cold, it was something more exotic, like whooping cough or bronchitis.

It was a blustery Thursday evening early in winter and my mother had just returned from a post-work shopping trip.

For the next few days, the slippers never left my feet, and when they did the smell of stale sweat wafted up. I believe this experience marked the beginning of my road to recovery. What I was once convinced would be a never-ending illness was now conquerable; what were once dark, lonely days were now brightened by the friends on my feet. Amazingly, within a few weeks, I attending school once again and, slowly, my life returned to normal.