When I was a baby there was a picture of stand on my dads hand

Or being held by my mom

The shaved head a memory of surgery was done

A family portrait taken in a grain of time like the blowing sand.

Pictures full of my memories

In more innocent times

When all the world seemed fine

Oh how I could go back to days such as these.

Where dad came home dirty from another construction job

Mom was the teacher, nurse and a rock

My sister ran from the camera which was a lock

We lived, we grew with picture as we traveled this sod.

I went to college and made new friends

was in love and their was getting my picture taken again

then working as a missionary in a different land and more pictures I sent

Through different roads in my life a picture was like an old friend.

Pictures are like a window into the soul

They rarely if ever lie

They are like a gift from heaven coming out of the sky

The photo can capture our darkest hour or catch us with a smile and glow.

College graduations, weddings, reunions and births have been taken

In the last number of years

Where there was much joy and we overcame our fears

Creating lasting memories, joy, tears and love are at stake.

Now grand children and nephews take up the photo lens

With our digital cameras and computers to create the scene

Of who we are and were we have been

When we are done we create many photos and press send.

So you see pictures are a history making tool

That we can admire and reflect on the day

Where our world changed come what may

Knowing we did our best to live life to the fullest and keep the Golden rule.

By Ty Stingel

February 5, 2014


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