A Little Moment To Cherish

   She sat inside on a cool spring day, making memories as she played. She gave her dolls voices, she built them homes, she made them laugh and play.

   This moment was not planned, I had not jotted a note down in my book of photo ideas specifically outlining every detail, nor did I wait all day for the right lighting to get a perfect shot. It simply happened. 
   I realized that I was gazing through a window into my sisters imagination, catching glimpses of how her world worked and what her little characters said as what swirled around in her head came bubbling over into her speech. The sincerity of her play time and the thoughtful fantasy she created seemed to call me to create an image out of it. And I did so in as discreet a manner as I could. 
   Clearly a photographers job is partly being a ninja, right?
   I also became aware of how this moment would change over time. The room will still be there, the walls will still be standing (hopefully), the sun will still glitter in through the window. But, slowly, the beloved blanky will be folded and stored away, the toys will start to disappear, and the girl will blossom into a woman. 
   But I will have this photo. I'll have this moment, this story of simple innocence, frozen for all time to keep forever, even when the clock continues its orbit round and round.
   Gosh, I sound like a parent and she's only my sister. But, as the eldest, I, like my parents, watch the younger ones grow up and see all the changes that accompany them over the years. I guess it's good training. But really by "good" training, I mean that I too feel the unwanted pangs of sorrow caused by watching them change as well as the overwhelming joy in seeing them grow up all colliding in a massive heap of strange ongoing nostalgia and the ever present realization of the imminent unknown future.
   The alleviation for this is something that I often ponder. I find that I am prone to view the future with apprehension for not only myself, but also the people that are around me. When my thoughts wander into the shadow of worry, I have to frequently make myself stop and remember that no matter how much I wade through the anxiety of the unknown, the One who created this world has already written our stories with thorough care and everything that has and will touch our lives has already passed through the hands of God. Our job is to walk through that story with the faithfulness of a child.