He saw the clogs, small and red, and he knew he had to have them...not for himself, but for a daughter he didn't know he would ever have. He spent 1.5 Danish kroner for the shoes he found in a Danish thrift store. He also bought a pair for himself.
Decades passed and the little red shoes were forgotten, ignored--hidden in a basement. The man married and children followed, one of which, was a little girl.
There exists a small window of opportunity where a child's feet fit a specific shoe size and had not the man been searching something else completely, the shoes would have remained in a red plastic bag in a filing cabinet in the corner of the basement.
When the red clogs were again found the man's first reaction was elation. The daughter loved shoes (yes, at an early age...) and these would be like none other. But then elation was replaced by trepidation. Maybe the shoes wouldn't fit. Maybe the daughter's feet had grown too large for the wood souls (trœ) and leather uppers (œgte lœder)...
...and car tires for tread.
When the man presented his daughter with the shoes, she loved them. And when she tried them on, they fit. And not only did they fit, but her feet can even grow a little before the clogs become too small and will, once again, be put away (maybe for decades...) until another little girl at some point in the future will have the opportunity to wear the clogs of red.