The Passing Of Time

This picture was taken in Somerville, Massachusetts, around 1918. Often times when I see this picture my thoughts turn to the changes these sweet girls saw as they grew into young women and now old ladies.
Someone in my great grandparents family took the picture and in my heart I was always grateful to them for snapping it. To me they look like China dolls. What sweet faces, what darling clothes and shoes, a moment captured forever and now through the technology of computers, shared with perhaps a thousand people just today.
Things were certainly more simple for these wee ones. Very early on they understood what was expected of them. The choices limited compared to ours. Family and friends more certain though. Life as they grew up was less confusing. I suspect they grew up like my grandmother, being more accepting of what life handed to you. Dealing with things as they came along. Having faith to hold you through the tough times. We are more scattered these days, emotionally and physically. People here and there. Things pulling you in 15 directions in less than an hour. The media in all forms telling us what we MUST have to keep up with society.
Very few are comfortable in their own skin since so few know what their own skin really is. Its hard to take time to know when there are no moments of silence. No daily tasks that let your mind wander and work on solving problems. So few quiet moments to pray. We program everything, stoves, phones, computers, microwaves, and the like. Someone asked me a phone number the other day and I didn't know it, its programmed into the phone so no need to memorize it. It made me feel like my brain was a bit lazy.
My penmanship is even sloppy now, when it used to be so nice. I hardly ever write things out, I type them out.
The passage of time changes us. Constantly I fight to maintain the good things from the days of old and allow in the things of modern day that are good. Its never easy to find the balance.
Today I am decluttering, dreaming of days when the house was not so full of stuff. Its like a bad virus that is resistant to treatment, this accumulation of things. It gets better for a while, but then you realize it has once again taken hold.
How I wish the world was as unrushed as when these little ones stood for this picture way back in 1918.