Peggy Sue and her brother Clyde were in Mrs. Twiddle’s fourth grade class with me. Neither did well in school, but Clyde seemed to struggle more, already having been held back one year. I knew their family lived in an unfinished, unpainted house on my bus route , so I inferred they were poor.

While the other fourth grade girls wore the usual little girl shoes with socks, Peggy Sue went sockless in black flats of the type worn by teenagers and women.

For some reason, Mrs. Twiddle took issue with Peggy Sue’s shoes and lack of socks. Every morning, when checking attendance, the teacher lectured Peggy Sue about not wearing socks. I dreaded the lectures for Peggy Sue’s sake. A kinder person would have assumed the child simply had no socks and possibly discreetly supplied her with a few pair. The Twiddles owned a store and could have spared them. Instead, Mrs. Twiddle tormented her.

I’ve never forgotten Mrs. Twiddle’s cruelty. I’m sure Peggy Sue hasn’t.