AU Wackerlin Center for Faith and Action

Monthly Musings

May 2007: Of Socks and Saints

The last time I was visiting Turkey (read: the only time I’ve visited Turkey), I had the great fortune of sitting down to dinner with a major exporter of socks. His name was Selahattin, and he and his family prepared for us a magical meal. It was a recurring theme during our stay: we would eat dinner with a local family, and at the end of the meal, they would give us gifts.

During our dinner with Selahattin’s family, we had all sorts of fascinating Turkish dishes. If I remember correctly, it was our second night there, and we were still experiencing new worlds of food. Everything was fresh and delicious, and I even managed to finish the ayran, which is basically a drink of watered-down yogurt. I ate a great deal of food, as did everyone else, and then we sat on couches to drink tea and share our thoughts. After some time doing this, it was very late and we prepared to leave. But before we left, the inevitable presents showed up.

Selahattin’s gifts to our group reflected his status as a hosiery exporter, and we all got three brand-new pairs of Turkish socks. Normally I would balk at such a gift (socks for Christmas seems to be a running joke of Americana), but these socks were unbelievable. They helped my feet stay cool in the hot Anatolian sun. I still wear them today, which is to say that I have been rotating them in and out of my sock “line-up” for over a year. They are still in great shape, and still super-soft.

Earlier this year, I emailed Selahattin to say hello, inquire as to his and his family’s well-being, and to inquire as to where I might purchase more of his company’s socks. I had found the website, but there was no place to buy them there. He wrote back to say hello and to welcome me back to Turkey sometime. He told me to check out major department stores here in the States for his socks, but after long hours (or minutes, as the case may be) of searching, I could not find them. I wrote him to say that his socks were not findable, and that I would definitely look him up next time I visited.

I was sitting in my office when a package came from our Mailroom. It was a UPS bag with a sizable package inside. I signed for it and checked the address. It had come from Istanbul! Selahattin’s name was on the outside, too. Could this be? Had he mailed me the unfindable socks?

I tore open the bag and found a box with six pairs (six pairs!) of his company’s socks inside. They came in all styles and colors. Some were gray, some were blue, others were black. As I write this, it occurs to me that I’m wearing a pair with crossed tennis rackets adorning the side. They are very comfy. There was also a letter from Selahattin, telling me to visit sometime, and apologizing for my inability to find his socks. To correct the problem, he was giving me a gift of his socks. Free lunch? Check.

Free socks? Double-check.

Touching my heart with hosiery? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tim Brauhn