Why I Do It

Back in July of 2002, I went into my church's foot clinic for the first time. I was really disgusted by feet, and especially toes. I felt a need to volunteer there, or at least just check it out. I watched others for a little while, changing the occasional foot bath, and then I said I wanted to work on the next guy who came through the door. A tall obese man limped through the door. I helped him take his shoes off, as he was too heavy to do it himself. He seemed so embarassed, so I began a conversation with him. I am constantly teased about how chatty I am, but it doesn't bother me. At times my verbosity can be a gift that seems to put others at ease. The man put his enormous and very damaged foot on the towel on my lap and I immediately felt that I was exactly where God wanted me to be at that moment. The man had from 1/4 of an inch to 1/2 of an inch of dense callus covering the entire sole of his foot, minus the arch area. Unfortunately the only volunteer with a rotary tool at the time was not present, so I did my best with a simple callus rasp. After an hour (a typcial foot treatment only takes 10-20 minutes), I finished rasping and rubbed his feet down with vapor rub and he was finished. I can still see the brilliant smile on his face. He walked out of the clinic after thanking me a thousand times. It was quite a life-altering moment for me. Though we begged him to come back, and he said he would, we never saw him again.