It was only a silly old snapshot
And Mother had said, that day,
That she wished we wouldn't take it.
She wished we would throw it away.
wind in her hair made it fuzzy
And the sun was bright in her eyes.
But, we were glad we had captured,
On film, one so camera-shy.
Often thereafter, we begged her
To let us try one more shot.
But, she was so full of excuses.
And later on, we just forgot.
slip away into seasons
And seasons, too soon, become years.
Life's silver thread is so fragile.
Passing brings so many tears!
But, I came, once again, 'cross the picture,
That she said we never could take,
And I'm thankful to God, up in Heaven,
She gave in, just for our sake.
the wind in her hair seemed so proper
And the sun gave a gleam to her eyes.
I treasure a dear piece of paper,
Remembrance of earth's finest prize!
by Joan Clifton Costner