I thank my God every time I remember you…. Philippians 1.3
I wrote a thank you letter a few days ago. It was to one of my father’s sisters, a Christian lady, energetic and active, that lives in Canada. This aunt and my mom were born about a month apart, but she actually married after I did.
When I was a girl, Aunt H worked with her brothers on my grandfather’s farm (my grandpa died when I was about three). Besides milking the cows, she took care of an enormous garden, drove the tractor, worked in the field… She also helped her mother with the housework. She was always a cheerful and vigorous person. I thought that this would be her destiny forever.
Picture of me in front of the hospital where my brother was born. Taken by my Aunt.
Since she left Holland before finishing her studies, Aunt H did not have a high school diploma. I didn’t accompany the details of this phase, but I later learned that she studied at night to receive this diploma and, one day, she appeared in our home to say goodbye. We all were sad, not understanding…
But she went to the USA to study in a college connected to our denomination. Older than the rest of the class, she adapted to urban living, worked while she studied and managed to get her degree as a librarian with honours. She earned scholarships, worked a few more years on her master’s and doctorate and then got a job in the library of a large university in Ottwa. And she got married. About two years after I did. I couldn’t go to the ceremony because I was already in Brazil. Her husband is a kind Christian man of her age, very skilled in carpentry. And they have lived together happily. Without children, but enjoying each other’s company, until now.
I thought of this aunt affectionately last month. And now I wrote her a letter, part of which I am transcribing below.
If you remember a good quality, or a kind action by someone in your past—someone who is still alive—then I encourage you now to do something similar, in writing or by phone, or in person, recognizing how that person was a channel of blessing to you. Especially if that person is already elderly, perhaps feeling useless or superfluous, those words may be very encouraging. And if you want to share what you did and/or the result, you can comment on this post…
Aunt H and I, plus a Puppy
The occasion for this specific remembering of my aunt was when my youngest brother turned 50 last month in Canada and I was asked to provide some photos of his childhood. Thus I went to look at my old photo albums and walked through memory lane for a while.
December 3, 2007
Dear Aunt H:
A few weeks ago, our G became 50 and C asked N, me and the other brothers for some help with the celebration she was organizing with some friends. So I wrote down some things that I remembered about little G and went to my photo albums for further inspiration since I had copied many of the black and white photos that Pa had from the tobacco and Janetville farm times (these originals were subsequently divided among us).
As I was looking and choosing and reminiscing (and S was scanning a few to e-mail to C), it occurred to me that the reason we have these photos is because there was once a certain young lady in the 1950s who not only was enterprising enough to buy and learn how to operate a camera, but who made a point of putting it in her purse and snapping posed and natural shots of her extended family. Once the photos were developed, she would make copies to give to the people she had photographed (or gave her own away). In this way, she ended up supplying a tangible history to her nieces and nephews.
Aunt Helen, we would have none (or very little) of this, if it had not been for you. It was many years before our parents invested in a camera. It was you that made it possible for us to now sit down with those little black and white rectangles that we call photographs. With a click and a turn on your “magic box”, you captured those moments, those places and those persons that are part of our past and reside in our memories. We can look at them and see resemblances with each other’s kids and perhaps even with grandchildren some day. We can recall things that frightened us or saddened or hurt. Special moments come back to mind and we can see our parents in ways we do not remember them, so that we identify with them and appreciate their struggles more. I can thank God for the security of dedicated parents, the beauty and abundance of the farm, for the pets that filled my life and that I could love… For the peonies that came up so faithfully every year and the lilacs with which we learned to make fragrant bouquets as we mixed the white, pink and various shades of purple …
So I have asked S to scan a few of the photos that you probably took and they are below. And there is one that I remember of G, that C has, which I think you taught me how to take–he is wearing a sort of bloomers in it. As you can see below, she put it on a poster together with several others that you probably took. And then there is one of you with me and a dog that someone else took, of course, but I presume it was probably on your camera.
Anyhow, I just want you to know that I really appreciate having these photos to look at and I thank God not only for that but for all the other things you did for us for so many years, playing with us, for “Brenda” (such a beautiful doll that I always looked forward to playing with), for the stories you told, for having us over to your home and taking us to new places, adding moments of adventure and excitement to our lives. Thank you.
A big hug for you and for Uncle John
Affectionately, Betty
Muito joia sua ideia de reconhecer e agradecer alguém por algo especial feito no passado.(muito no passado!) Abraços.