RemembeRED -- Photograph

I am me. The me I was born to be. Before any of the abuse started, before I knew about evil. When I was just happy. My mother took this photograph. It is the only one she ever took. She said I hummed and sang before I could talk. I was a happy child then, before I became confused. All the things I love surround me in this picture: books, stuffed animals, my circus ball, and a tea set. I was busy, even then, caring for and nurturing others. It is how I learned to nurture myself, I think.

When I look at this picture, I wish that little girl would turn around, so I could see her face – see pure joy. I’d like to warn her that things are about to get very difficult. I’d love to tell her it won’t last forever and a wonderful man will come into her life to help her save herself. But maybe it’s better this way. Let her have those last few months of pure joy – unadulterated by the evil that is to come. Warning her wouldn’t have changed anything, and maybe the knowledge of the wonderful man would have made it harder for her to save herself later. I don’t know.

Some people believe that a photograph can steal your soul. Not me. I believe a photograph – this photograph – saved my soul making it possible for me to retrieve it in due time.


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