Tonight my sister decided we should dig up our “save books”–the simple scrap books our mom kept, rubber-cementing our art and accomplishments between brown pages and guarding them beneath her bed :)
I found somewhat lumpy-hearted Valentines for my parents, a fork turned into a giraffe, a pile of snakes plotting, envelopes full of Easter egg people, and more. I also found little poems I wrote about raccoons and trees and rabbits (I had a forest series going). The one on the raccoon made me smile. It went like this:
He has a black mask
And a very small task
Yep, admit it, you are totally impressed ;)
Anyway, it was a lot of fun. It made me remember how industrious children can be. My brother and I used to spend hours in our sun room drawing and creating sets of things. One thing I remember drawing over and over is mermaids. I also did a self-portrait every year or so and it reminded me that practice does make perfect. Or, if not perfect, at least improved.
It also reminded me that memories can inspire us and also warm our hearts. Thanks, Mommy, for my save books! I look forward to keeping the tradition alive :)