Friday, March 2, 2018


Written by  Celeste Woloschuk

I wear mismatching socks a lot. If the most recent census taken of my socks is correct, a little over half of my pairs of socks do not match. Now, this isn’t because over time I lost half my socks to dryer gnomes, and just threw the remaining pair-less socks together into pseudo-pairs. Nor do I haphazardly match my socks together after they go through the wash. I could never support that kind of anarchy. No, my socks deliberately don't match. They came to me together as mismatching pairs (or trios).

This phenomenon started when I was in high school. My mother went on a business trip to New York and brought back two different trios of neon mismatched socks for me. Each of the trios had complimentary socks; the general pattern was similar, but the colours and details would be different– for instance, one trio contained socks with a solid colour at the top, at the heel and at the toes (blue on one, pink on another and green on the third) with colourful shapes in the middle (hearts on one sock, circles on another and squares on the third). The six individual socks came together to make three different “pairs” of socks. I loved the socks so much that on another trip, my mother again brought home some mismatched socks for me, bringing my total up to twelve socks I could pair up how ever I chose.

I took great pride in these socks. Though I never put much thought into the socks I wear on a daily basis, I literally choose my socks in the dark in the morning before I turn any lights on, these socks added something special to my life. They were most often a conversation starter, usually starting the conversation with something along the lines of: “Hey. Your socks don’t match!” But they also helped me feel more joyful and even confident on a day to day basis. No matter how my day was going, I was always cheered by the idea that my socks were bright and mismatched, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that!

Last year for my birthday, my brothers did something very special. They purchased a subscription to a sock company that, every month, would mail a new pair of complimentary, yet mismatched socks to me. Now, to go along with my neon mismatched pairs, I have socks that are connected only by a theme: airplanes and clouds, milk and cookies, mountains and rivers, to name a few. I now have so many different pairs of mismatching socks, I can go weeks without wearing a single pair of matching ones.


It’s amazing what little things like this can do to change your day. A difficult day can instantly transform into a good one at the sight of yellow socks with squirrels on one and acorns on the other (which I just happen to be wearing as I write today). It reminds me a bit of a quote I heard from Mother Teresa about the importance of small things done with great love. Is having weird socks going to change the whole world? No. Is it going to fix the world’s problems? Again, No. But it does help me to feel a little bit better and that better, however it manifests itself, seeps into everything I do and into every interaction I have.

I’ve been reflecting this Lent on how I can grow in my faith and become a better follower of Christ. And after a long, hard look at my socks, I’m starting to think that if I can find something every day that helps me to be a better, more joyful, more loving, more faithful and faith-filled me, even if it’s something as stupid as my socks, maybe one day I’ll be closer to the person I know God wants me to be, the person I know I can be.

Read 185 times Last modified on Monday, March 5, 2018