Artwork that Inspires

I once read about a woman who hung pictures around her house to represent characteristics she hoped her children would consider (and implement). For example, she displayed a picture of pioneers traveling in a snowstorm to represent perseverance in times of trial. She also had individual photographs of all 29 of her grandchildren lined up across the mantle, intending to send the message that they were a very important part of her family. I tucked this idea away for later use, telling myself that right now, I just don't have wall space or money for nice artwork depicting honorable characteristics.

A few months later, I came across an old box of pictures rotting in the depths of my mom's storage closet. I rescued the box and slowly started going through the mildew. The musty box turned out to be full of photos of my ancestors. For the first time, I saw people whose names I had heard and read throughout my life. I had honored and felt connected to these people for so long. Some of them I had met as a child and many others I had heard stories about from my grandma. And suddenly, I was looking right at them, visiting the places they lived, meeting their families and even sometimes their horses. Since then, I've made it my responsibility to preserve these priceless photos. I've been putting them in archival quality sheet protectors in a binder and plan on digitizing them. So, they've gone from a moldy box in a dark room to a book on a shelf. That feels more comfortable to me.

Except for that picture up there. I was nearing the bottom of the box when I happened upon a sturdy gray envelope containing a picture of Gram and Pop, my great-grandparents. I was about to slide it into a sheet protector when I discovered a slit on the back of the envelope. It was made to be turned into a funny little card-stock picture frame! I tried it out and thought it was kind of cute. I even placed it on a dresser in my room and left it there overnight.

A few days later, Nolan was playing near that dresser and noticed the little picture frame. He brought it to me and pointed to Gram and Pop, asking who they were. I told him they were his grandma's grandparents and rehearsed some things I knew about them. He was genuinely interested and I was genuinely proud to tell him that these people were his people.

I don't have great artwork to teach my children lessons (yet), but opportunities to teach principles of happiness come anyway. Especially with my great-grandparents reminding us who we are, where we've come from, and what great things are expected.