THE OLD FAMILY ALBUM

Although the old album is shabby and worn
And some of its pages are missing or torn,
To me it’s a treasure, more precious than art,
Evoking old feelings held dear to my heart.

In Grandmother’s parlour it had its own place---
It lay on a stand that was covered with lace;
A kerosene lamp and a Bible were there
Not too far away from my grandmother’s chair.

When dinner was over on Sundays of yore,
We children looked forward to what was in store:
We’d settle ourselves on the horsehair settee
And she’d sit between us so we could both see.

As she turned the pages she knew every face
And carefully told us the name of each place;
A comment or quip went along with each shot
And I can remember that we laughed a lot.

Today, as I look through those pictures again,
The years melt away to the days I knew then.
An old photo album that’s falling apart
Rekindles sweet memories dear to my heart.


-- Helen J. Ewoldsen – 11-19-02