I see her peering out from her frame every day-a barely coaxed smile on her lips. I bought her for the frame she came in-homemade and obviously someone's early attempt at woodworking-but that was the charm. I found that I couldn't remove her though-she belonged in that frame. The thought of casting her aside as others already had done bothered me. She must have meant a lot to someone once...long ago. And so I "adopted" her and set her among my other photographs.
I have lots of old family photographs and to me they are priceless. I would never think of getting rid of them. They are part of my history. They are a link to times and places I'll never get to visit, and a tangible reminder that I am here now because of those who came before me.
So who was she? I'll never know. How and why did she end up in a dusty corner of an antique store? That, I'll never understand.
