I watched as the little girl and her mother got into line just ahead of us, and I could see the blush deepening on the mom’s face and neck the closer she got to the Nuncio. Eventually, it was their turn, and the mom began a hurried explanation of the muddy fluffy slippers.
He help up his hand and silenced the mother, and leaning forward on the crozier, he asked the girl, “Those are special shoes. Do you like them?”
She pulled the thumb from her mouth and chirped “They’re spark-a-we.”
“Ah. Sparkly is important in shoes.” He told her. “Are they your favorite?”
“She never takes them off.” Her mother confessed.
“They’re my booful shoes!” the girl shrieked to the amusement of a growing crowd.