All summer long, we would run around in bare feet on springy grass, through pillows of garden dirt, over sharp sticks in the bush, even across nubby gravel roads or down the melting asphalt of the highway. We’d slide across slippery rocks in the creek and climb trees by gripping like monkeys with our toes. Our feet became shoes themselves, hardened and able to resist any kind of puncture short of stepping on a nail.
Please Support Our Sponsors
ContributionsHelp support barefooting through this site and its members. Contribute today monthly or annually and let more bare steps go forth.