Second Opinions : An Act of Kindness Brings Comfort to Woman in Need : A boy’s mother waits for the right moment to give her son’s outgrown, nearly new shoes to someone she chanced upon who struck her as deserving.

I have a 12-year-old son whose growth pattern resembles the weeds in my backyard. It is hard to begrudge one’s child for growing so fast: I suppose I would be incredibly worried if he were not. Shoes purchased for him in July became too small the first week of August. Unwilling to just donate them, I put the shoes in the closet until the Cancer Society’s large plastic bag appeared at my doorstep.

Only for some reason, I couldn’t put those shoes in the bag, and they remained on the shelf. Maybe I was penny-pinching. After all, to give brand-new shoes away (he had only worn them five days) seemed criminal, and if I were the garage sale type, I could have sold them for at least $10! Or perhaps it was a mother’s refusal to acknowledge that her baby was really growing up. Nevertheless, I could not part with them until I had a really good reason to do so.

I found that reason on my way into the Hughes Market in Van Nuys to do grocery shopping. There, not far from the entrance, was a woman dressed in a clean and colorful sweatshirt, bluejeans and a pair of boots. She appeared at first to be waiting for a ride, shopping cart filled with grocery bags. But on my second take, I noticed that the cart also contained a blanket, and that atop the blanket was a little wire-haired terrier. As I approached she held up a small sign. I didn’t need to read it, and even the words she uttered, asking for spare change, seemed superfluous.

I told her I’d get cash inside and give it to her on the way out. She gave me a look like, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” but she didn’t say it. It was my intention to give her money, that is until she complained of her feet “killing her.” Then it dawned on me. I asked her what size shoe she wore. She said “8 1/2 or 9.” “Ah ha,” I thought, “I think those shoes in the closet are an 8 1/2 men’s . . . I wonder if . . . “ She said she’d meet me on the other side of the parking lot, “cause I need to sit down, and this other lady said she’d be here to bring me some shoes.”

I told her I’d come back with some shoes, and again she gave me the “Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” look.

The checkout lines seemed to be moving like molasses spilled in the arctic, but I found the shortest one and became engaged in a conversation with a woman about her flowers and fruit trees. She boasted about the hot salsa she and her husband make with the peppers they grow. She and the woman outside appeared to be the same age. I wondered to myself if the hot salsa lady had a wire-haired terrier. Then, it was my turn to pay.

I drove home quickly so I could unload, grab the shoes, drop them off and be finished in time to pick up my son at school. After putting away the groceries, I thought maybe the woman with the dog needed food. I packed a small sack with healthy fruits, vegetables, cheese, cookies and a can of juice. I got the shoes, the sack lunch, a pair of clean socks, and drove back. There she was, sitting on a bench. She didn’t really notice until I was right in front of her. Her eyes first went to the shoes, then a smile appeared as she looked up.

“I’ve got to try them on,” she said taking off her size 7 boots. Her feet were red and swollen. She put on the socks, then the shoes I had brought. “They’re perfect!” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe you brought them for me. The other lady never showed up.”

“I was just waiting to find a good home for these shoes,” I told her as our eyes met. I handed her the bag of snacks, we bade goodbye and I drove to school to pick up my son.

“Hi, Mom.” My son tells me as he gets in the car, “Can we go to the mall? My shoes are too small.”

I hope I can find a good home for size 9s.