The Saturday Journal: "Paper Clipings" and Old Photos

My Mama called me this week–said she was looking for something in the top of her closet and this box fell on her head–a small box. ‘Come down here and get it. I’ve looked through it–there’s some stories in the box–real interesting. I think you will like reading them.’

The top of the stained and worn paper box–the edges are frayed–the words in cursive reads–”Paper Clipings”

The box belonged to my Great-Grandmother.  I called her Grammy–sometimes Mammy.  

And the box holds treasures of newspaper articles–stories of families–obituaries–weddings–articles of health matters and stories relating to the Bible. All the paper faded–thin--yellowed with age. And there’s more–in the box are letters–cards--notes–to do lists–Bible verses relating to life and many subjects.

She wrote on used envelopes–spread them wide. She wrote on all scraps of paper–bills–letters--business cards--whatever she had. She wrote in pencil–mostly–some were in pen.  Two pages of calendars are in the box–and she used the white space on the back for thoughts and her Bible study notes. The calendar dated, 1963.  And there’s a Christmas card she received from a friend. The friend, she wrote in blue ink–cursive, “I hope you arnt very lonely.  I see plenty of new friends but I haven’t forgotten my old ones like you.  I hope you are well.  I am just about the same.  I am given you all my love & best wishes for Christmas & all thru the New Year. I hope to see you sometime.” 

One of the notes--her to do list for Sabbath day–"Before worship, make me a cup of coffee. Take the fluid tablet in orange juice. Put on the beans. Call Mrs. Hamby near 4. Send Johnsie's birthday card not till tomorrow."

Opening up this box–spending time inside–touching each paper that she touched–seeing her handwriting–what was important to her–I felt like with each word I read–each faded newspaper photo I saw–I learned more about the life of a woman who I called Grammy–a woman I barely knew. 

I have few memories of her–she lived in Winston-Salem.  We did visit when we could. She always had lemon drop candy sprinkled with white sugar for me and my brothers. I remember the home she lived in–it was small.  Gray with a little front porch–her mailbox was on the side of the house–which I thought was odd.  Her mailman delivered the mail on foot and the story goes, if she was outside when he brought her the mail–she would stand and talk awhile–a long while. 

I found my great-grandfather’s obituary in my Grammy’s “paper clipings” box.  He died before I was born.  The obituary listed where he was buried.  And I had forgotten he and my Grammy were buried at a cemetery not far from where I live.  

I visited their gravesite today–their names etched in stone. Sadly, tombstones don't reveal a person’s story–only two facts–the day of birth and the day of death. 

And on this evening–the box was still open–on my kitchen table–drawing me close. It reminded me of yet another box that’s not so new to me–a box of old photos black and white photos of my Grammy, my Daddy as a child–my Grandpa and Grandma–more family photos. 

I touch the faded black and whites–gently as if they would break. I held each photo–lingered in their faces a little longer–

One photo, my Grammy is standing in front of the school house where she attended as a little girl.  The reason I know this–one of her children took the time to write on the back of the photo with a red pencil–dated it September 4th, 1954. Another photo, she’s sitting on the couch in my Grandpa and Grandma’s house–I have the faintest of memories of this couch–this room. She has the most beautiful smile. 

And there it was–a photo I’d never seen before–a photo of a man–a rough man in nature–one who could be gruff on occasion. In the photo he is wearing overalls, sitting on a front porch holding a little boy on his lap and the child’s arms are wrapped around this man’s neck–the man in the photo is the child’s uncle.  And the little boy is giving him a kiss on the cheek. The man–his whole face is like a bright candle–shining–smiling. 

If it hadn’t been for my Grammy’s treasures in her “Paper Clipings” box that led me to the photo box on this night–I would have missed this…

So, I stare at the photo longer–of the man holding his nephew–the photo not as faded as the others–and my tears come. Growing up–I never saw this side of either of these men–in this photo–and there it was–in black and white. Captured in a moment of time. 

And I’m grateful for old photos–old letters–old newspaper clippings and for those who save them. 

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I am grateful for each of you--more than you will ever know and I pray,

the stories shared in this space will encourage and bless you in some small way.

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All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer.

Soli Deo Gloria

Tathel

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I'm beyond thankful and humbled for so many of you who have purchased my latest book and to all those who allowed me to share their stories and to guest writers, Logan Jones and Angela Searcy and Tiffany Shepherd for allowing me to include their stories. A new shipment is here and the books are available at Wilkes County Hardware in North Wilkesboro and will be available in a few more businesses soon. You can also order online at https://www.tathelmiller.com/product-page/the-saturday-journal-stories-of-faith-family-farming-and-community