Wednesday, January 14, 2015

I Never Noticed It Before

Last May I was snapping pictures outside at my parents' house.  I turned from the garden and looked up.  It struck me that I rarely looked at the house from that angle and I didn't think I had ever seen a photo of it that way either.  But, it's home. 

And I thought there are so many little things around here that mean "home" to me.  Silly little things like the money dish that my dad got in high school or the chair he always sits in to look across the yard or Mom's Bible that's always open on her dresser and the Ann Landers columns taped inside the cupboard.  These little things that mean home because they belong to the people who live here.  And I love them.

So over the course of the year I secretly snapped pictures of those things and put them together in a book for my parents (and sisters). 


 With this poem. ;)

Pieces of Home
When I look at our house there’s more that I see.
A photograph can tell just a part of each memory.
Pictures on the wall tell a bit of our story,
Summers, winters, seasons and glories.
Running, biking and sledding hills,
The place you sit to pay the bills.
Girls on an adventure, princesses and spies,
A touch of green, but mostly all blue eyes.
Crayons and dolls and a shelf for every book,
A memory in all the corners you look.
Clocks, lights, money dishes and gardens of flowers,
A timer for all of those too-long girl showers.
The smell of chainsaws, smoke and wood,
A tractor where the pool once stood.
Tools each in their own special place,
Crying, laughing, mistakes and grace.
Breakfasts, lunches, suppers and picnics,
A house made of more than lumber and bricks.
A taste of red raspberries, fresh peas and tomatoes,
Spaghetti with sauce and ham, stringbeans & potatoes.
Little Debbies, fruit snacks and the chocolate stash.
The days can go slowly, but the years in a flash.
The place you do chores for the people you love,
The imprint of your hand in an old leather glove.
Your handwritten journals and Bible turned to the page that you’ll read,
The phone you use to gab or to listen when that’s just what we need.
And while these things—they’re just a bunch of stuff.
They're part of the space that taught us what to do when the world gets rough.
But more than that—what’s really true.
Is that they point to one of God’s greatest gifts to me—you.

And when the book was done, after a few clicks and edits, Snapfish so nicely put it all together in this amazing video that makes me cry almost every time.  (The boots on the shelf are too much.  And the song?  It's perfect.) 


1 comment:

  1. Your memorable things aren't what outsiders would take notice of. They are small, yet their consistency makes them a comfort. It makes me wonder which of the little things in my house my daughters will take to heart and treasure.

    ReplyDelete