My Name is 30×40

My name is 30×40.
I realize it’s an odd name, but it’s what I go by.

I’m 18 years old.
I live in a home on a wall over a fireplace.
I’ve lived here all my life. And well, it’s been nice.

I live with a family–if you look at me, you’ll see them smiling back at you.
They’re pretty great.

Actually, they look a bit different now.

That little boy is a man and that little girl is a young woman.
But I remember when they weren’t.
And I help them remember, too.

When I think back to 18 years ago, a lot has happened.
I remember the day I was put in this frame and hung on the wall.
I became a part of the living room.

Through the years, the children would glance up at me
And see themselves surrounded by the people who love them most in the world
(That has got to be a great feeling)
I’m not sure their little minds could grasp it fully
But each time they looked at me, the idea that they were loved and part of a family and very important was embedded deeper into their subconscious.

Day after day, year after year, I reminded them of that fact
I slowly came to realize that was my purpose…to remind them of their importance.

As they played with their trucks and their dolls, and then, in later years, with their video games and their iPhones, I stood over them. A constant steady reminder that they are part of this thing called “Family.”
That they matter in the world.

Over the years, others have come to join me
Even our little buddy, 11×14

We all work together to remind these children, this family, of what they mean to each other.

Soon, they will be gone, out, into the world.

But when they come home, they will see me once again
And they will marvel at how little they once were
And how loved they’ve always been.


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