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| Gavin loves photos. I'm sure it's in his genes. |
Grammy, tell me true
Do you just find scraps to stick to pages
With staples, tape and glue?"
The precious child's Grandmother
Gave him a warm and gentle smile
“I will tell you just what these are;
But it might take awhile.”
“They are cards and drawings you've given me
And pictures of you as you grow;
Class pictures, birthdays, Christmas time;
You playing in rain and mud and snow.”
“They're creative things you may have made
Or stuff that just reminds me so much of you;
Each one has a special memory of time or place,
And they include a wonderful story of how you grew.”
“It's a story of how I've watched your life
From the day you came into this world
And how that precious baby
Is now a bright and beautiful little boy.”
“One day when you are old enough,
I'll pass them on to you and your family
So you can see all the joy you've given
To everyone you knew.”
“My Darling, these aren't just books of scrap
They're the memories that fill my heart;
And when this volume is finished,
Another I will most assuredly have to start.”
“So when you are a grown man,
With grandchildren of your own;
Sitting down at some holiday gathering
With those precious children in your home,”
“You can say 'This was me,
When I was just about your age,
See, that's me in the 3rd grade play,
Right there on center stage'."
“And you can share the love I have
In my scrapbooked memories of you.
For that, my precious, precious Angel,
Is what scrapbookers do.”
Sniff.
This was written by a man who observed his girlfriend pouring so much of her time, energy & money into her scrapbooks. It was originally posted in the San Antonio Scrappers Crop Circle.
Thank you John R. Anderson
(adapted & changed slightly to fit my family)
