"Mother, you could open the end of my patent leather slipper so my toes can push through and then put a puff of black, ribbon over the hole!" The idea was an inspiration, and Suzanna's eyes shone.
Mrs. Procter saw immediately possibilities in the idea. Years of working and scheming and praying to raise her ever increasing family on the inadequate and varying income of her inventor husband had ultimated in keen sensibilities for opportunities. "Why, I think I can do that," she said. "I'll make a sort of shirred bag into which your toes will fit and so lengthen the slipper and cover the stitching with a bow. I hope I can find a needle strong enough to go through the leather." Her face was bright, her voice clear. She was all at once quite different from the weary, dragged mother of the past few days, determined against all odds to finish the dress so the cleaning might be started the following week.
Suzanna gazed delightedly. With the fine intuition of an imaginative child she understood the reason for the metamorphosis. It was the quickening of the senses that rallied themselves to meet and solve a problem that brought a high glow; stimulated, and uplifted. She herself was no stranger to that glow.
She put her arms about her mother's shoulder.
"Isn't it nice, mother, to have to think out things?"
A little puzzled, Mrs. Procter looked at Suzanna. Then her face cleared.
"O, I understand. It is--can you understand the word, Suzanna--'exhilarating' sometimes."
"I feel what the word means, mother--like catching in your breath when you touch cold water."
Suzanna ran upstairs. Returning, slippers in hand, she found the other children had left.
"Has Maizie got the baby?" Suzanna asked anxiously.
Her mother smiled. "Yes, I carried him out to the yard. He's kicking about, happy on his blanket."
Suzanna, relieved, handed the slippers to her mother.
"And I brought my old black hair ribbon. That will do for the shirring, won't it, mother?"
Together they evolved, worked, tried on, completed.
"It's more fun doing this than going to Bryson's and buying a new pair, isn't it, mother?"
"I feel so warm here--" Suzanna touched her heart--"because we're doing something harder than just going out to the store and buying what we'd like."