The world is very austere everywhere, and I have no concept of new.

Little do I know that it’s the most carefree time of my life.

I constantly play football in the street and in the process kick my shoes to pieces without noticing a thing except for the huge roar of appreciation that greets the wonderful goals I score. 
This carefree time is occasionally filled with the excitement of riches beyond my wildest dreams.
One winter’s afternoon, as I play football with my brother, our grandad passes by and calls us over. My heart rejoices at the prospect of a penny or two coming my way, enabling a visit to Mrs Lingwood’s sweet shop, but grandad takes us into Brown’s Shoe Shop instead.

Wondering what could be going on, we follow him in, after all, I already have shoes, and Mrs Lingwood’s is just next door.
 
Five minutes later I emerge the proud owner of new boots. I can hardly believe it, new boots, I look at them with wonder,my new boots! I had no idea that boots could be so new. They are the blackest, shiniest, newest boots I have ever seen in my whole life, and they even smell new. I wonder how on earth they got to be so new! I abandon the game and take them home. I firmly trust that because my new boots are so new, there’s no reason whatsoever why they should not stay new, without any help from me However, with the football season in full swing, I could hardly have harboured a more forlorn hope, and all too soon my new boots lose their new look. But maybe in one sense my hope was not quite so forlorn, because even when they look old and shabby to others, to me they remain forever new .