When Leah and I were first married we rented a one-bedroom, upstairs apartment in a wonderful old house in small-town Ohio. Our landlady, Minnie Frederick, lived downstairs in the main part of the house and she was so warm and grandmotherly to us that Leah and I became very close to her.
When our son was born several years later -- by then Leah and I had bought a home of our own, though it happened to be just around the corner from Min’s house -- we took our five-day-old baby over and proudly showed him off to our sweet, grandmotherly friend. I took a picture that day that, now, 30 years later, brings memories flooding back of a shared joy that was beyond what I can put into words.
Photographs are like that sometimes.
Several days ago I visited a young couple we know. They have just had their first child and I offered to do a picture of the new baby, who, it turned out, was a bit fussy part of the time I was there. Taking her in his big hand to calm her, the infant’s daddy held her and cooed to her in a way that was just wonderful. I felt, again, that sense of shared joy, and I was very happy to be there with my camera.
