School pictures.
Every year about this time, I have a tradition. Date the back of the shiny new 8×10 school picture of each of my kiddos, and then add it to their designated frame. Before the process is finished I’m actually in a ball of tears because I’ve spread out the 8x10s on the bed and have looked back at the years of pictures that show the progress of each little face…
~the missing tooth in the bottom row
~the appearance of a new freckle on the chin
~the baby curls that turned into long straight hair
~the baby face that turned into a young woman
The years begin to tumble by, but the pictures freeze one moment long enough for me to jump in and remember. And the beauty of the memories compels me to pause and reflect. These are my babies, the children I longed for and asked God for. The ones I love more dearly than life itself. These lives, these faces are the greatest pictures I’ll ever take. Not so much the actual print but the people in them. Ironically, it is the print that reminds me of this truth.
And so I faithfully gather my 8x10s year after year, knowing that one day I’ll add the last one and the collection will be complete.
