Daily reminders

I have two pictures arranged on the top of my dresser in my bedroom. They stand side by side in a prominent spot, where I see them daily; that is their purpose. They are my daily reminders.

Each picture features a young girl, but from two different eras. One is a black and white photo of a curly haired, four-year-old girl. Her stunning, dark eyes peer out from an angelic face as she shows a hint of a smile. Her portrait is enclosed in an antique, pearled frame. The other photo is a studio picture, coloured in soft pinks, encircled by a modern frame. This baby is smiling; her lips are pursed and her eyes are bright with anticipation. Both pictures are the same size and both exhibit a story. Together they depict a perspective on life, and remind me of the privilege I have in being a mother.

The angel-featured child is my oldest sister. She was the first of the seven daughters my mother bore. I never knew this sister, as just weeks after the picture was taken, she was killed in a car accident. The picture is a reminder of how uncertain and evanescent life can be. My mother didn’t know that this would be the last picture taken of her daughter. She never anticipated the brief time she would have to enjoy this incredible girl named Donna Marie. My mother loved Donna with the same abandonment that she poured into each of her children. At the time of the accident, my mother had four daughters, and like any young mother, I’m sure her days were filled with the demands of motherhood. I’ve often wondered if my mother would have done anything different, had she known the brevity of her time with Donna.

Right next to the photo of Donna, I have placed the picture of my first-born daughter. Their juxtaposition reminds me that every day is a gift of time. In the early years of motherhood I was tempted to just survive each day, and now as the children grow, busyness seems to rob us of time. I want to be reminded daily that every moment is a token of God’s grace. As motherhood exhausts my energy and at times tries my patience, I want these emotions to be inundated with a heart of thankfulness. I want to be grateful for each child and every day I have with each one.

The baby girls peer out from their respective frames, contrasting in style and era, yet portraying their similar and timeless message. They envisage the uncertainty of life while prompting me to savour the moments with each of my children. They are my daily reminders.

Doris Born has served with her husband Will, director of Gardom Lake Bible Camp, near Enderby, B.C., the past 10 years. She has recently been devoting more time to her love for writing.