I am pleased to feature Annelore Chapin as our Saturdays with Seniors guest blogger today. Born and raised in post-war Germany, Annelore met her American husband Roy there and left for the U.S. at age 20. The couple settled in Chicago for their retirement, and Annelore has been a writer in the Me, Myself & I memoir-writing class for years. Sharon Kramer generously volunteered to lead that class after I was put on furlough last year, and when Sharon asked writers to “Find a Photograph and Describe It,” Annelore came back with this tender essay
by Annelore Chapin
Two fresh young faces smiling from ear to ear straight into the camera. They belong to two second-graders sharing a school-bench made from wood. They are front-row occupants looking out from the photograph, so close I am tempted to touch them. These two girls are sitting at a small desk built for two, their legs covered by the attached table. You see their arms with both elbows resting on that table, the right arm on top of an open book, index finger pointing to a line as if to remember the spot they left while reading.
The girls look statuesque, both in equal positions, one arm across the other. Not only are their smiles identical, so are their clothes. There is no doubt that these dresses had been knitted by my mother. A solid-colored bodice or vest gave room to colorful designs on the emerging sleeves. They are woolen, warm sweater dresses, so the photo must have been taken in winter.
The two girls are my cousin Elfriede and myself. I had had an operation earlier that year on a so-called Lazy Eye and was wearing glasses. I am surprised that I was wearing them while the picture was taken, as I was embarrassed to be seen with them on. Both girls are missing a front tooth, and my round face shows too much forehead beneath bangs cut too short — as well as crooked.
The photo also shows the two girls sitting in the row behind us. Those two girls seem more relaxed and somehow older. I remember their names: Annemarie and Roswita.
What touches me deeply when looking at these two young faces is the innocence, the wonder, the curiosity. They were looking at a life not yet lived, time not yet spent, and dreams not yet realized. When one is seven years old, much has been learned and much more is to come.
I cannot help catching a little spark of the miracle of life every time I look at that photo.
So beautiful, the photo and the article.
This is the kind of writing I admire most: well organized, tightly written, says a lot with no words to spare. She mentions many details, all of which have significance. She moves from the specific to the general, finishing with something we all could say about ourselves at that age.
Mel, I agree. So much said with “no words to spare.” A beautiful, thoughtful ending, too.
Thanks Annalore for a wonderful description of a moment in time. It makes me want to look closer at some of my old photos. Thanks
This lovely essay should be shared with your cousin Elfriede. If she has passed, her family would love a look into their past. Well done, Annalore.
I agree! Good suggestion, Sheila.
I am ever so grateful to have joined Beth’s class so many years ago. Writing a little story every week has gotten rid of a lot of dust in my attic and, oddly enough, the more you dig, the more you find. Thank you all for your comments …. and helping me remember.
“The more you dig, the more you find.” So True. And what a coincidence: I am ever so grateful you joined our “Me, Myself & I” class so many years ago, Annelore. You have taught — and continue to teach — me so much.
Annelore’s elegant writing in this story and all of her stories is the reminder that Annelore is both a national treasure and an international treasure. All of her stories whether read in her writer’s voice or her the actual reading aloud of her story are lovely and vivid.
Janie
Aw, thank you Janie! I am floating on a cloud, thanks to all your supporting comments! But most of all, thanks to Beth.
Oh, Annelore, you are being too kind. The huge thanks here goes to your fellow writers Sharon Kramer and Audrey Mitchell for keeping that Me, Myself & I class going while I am on furlough. They are the ones who forwarded this wonderful essay my way to publish here, and that class would have dissolved without them.
“The innocence, the wonder, the curiosity”. You experienced it, remembered it so vividly and gave it to us so generously. Thank you, Annelore. Nicely done.
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