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