The Story of a Picture

I’ll always remember that picture of my family standing in front of our house. I only ever saw the one copy that hung in our living room. It was a small picture that was easy to miss. It hung just above a cast iron trivet that seemed to have some life-affirming saying on it, but the paint on the raised letters had worn off.

The picture was taken before the winter my granddad got sick. We just went about living our lives on the Northern prairie, but we never knew what was coming.

It was novelty to have our picture taken. Cameras were still big instruments that only professionals had. The photographer came to our house. It took him a long time to unpack his equipment and get everything set up.

Mama had told my brother and me when we had to be ready, but we wound up standing around in our best clothes the whole time he was setting up. We just wanted to run off and play, but if my dress had gotten dirty, it would have ruined the whole picture.