The Pink Camellias

On what should have been an average Monday, the day has wrapped with some lovely moments and some good memories. I think I've mentioned before about how Lacey collects things on our walks. She loves to have something in her hands. Rocks and sticks suffice, but if she can get her hands on a flower she is absolutely giddy. I so hope that she marries a romantic who will send her “pretty flowers” on a regular basis. Last week she got thorns in her fingers from insisting on a rose from her Daddy's rose bushes, and today she spied the lovely, plump, fluffy, pink Camellia blossoms on the Camellia bush. I really didn't want her to pull them off. I explained to her that once they were picked they would start to die and that they would be prettier for much longer if we left them on the bush. Her response, “Well, we can take a picture and then we will have them for a long time.” She is so MY child it is ridiculous. How did I not see this coming? So, we picked three choice blossoms, only three. We found a pretty glass from the kitchen cabinet and arranged them. Lacey went to her room and promptly returned with her camera, an old film camera that I gave her so she wouldn't get any ideas about using mine. We walked the yard and placed the little arrangement in various locations. Each time, she would take a picture, and then I would take one. I was trying to pay attention to the light, trying to find the perfect sun-kissed but covered spot. She had lots of suggestions as well. We ended up with a photo that I love, and a memory that I love even more. I will print this photo and hang it in Lacey's room. One day I will show Lacey's children the photo and will tell them the story of the pink Camellias, about how their mother suggested that a picture would make the pretty flowers last a long time. I guess she was right...

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