This dapper guy went off to Ch*na when my dad was young. He was my dad's uncle Albert. I also had an uncle Albert, named for this one. And while this uncle would take the long boat ride home once or twice over many years, he lived in that far away land until he died of complications from a ruptured appendix. I never knew him but have heard about him all my life. My dad was good like that; he taught us to love history and especially our family history. I have letters this uncle wrote home.
Both of my parents had an uncle that died in that country during the 1930s.
This picture takes me right back to age five or six. Our church had a new educational building, and our Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Conway, had a brand new sandbox for her Bible stories. I wonder now where she got the little figures and all the other things she used to illustrate the stories for us. In my mind I can see her characters being moved around by her hands as we were swept away to Bible times. Of course at the end we would get a little time in the sand ourselves.
As I think about how vivid this is in my memory, I realize how much of an impact we have on our children and grandchildren. They learn so much about life by the age of five. Our impact and input can be huge!