A Fish Christmas

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Here’s a glimpse from Christmas day with Ann’s family. To them it’s obvious what’s going on. For me it’s a symbol of the many things a family shares, bits of common identity that make them unique. As a new member of the family I don’t have the memories that fill this picture with meaning, but I have the privilege of being a part of this event where I can get a peek into their history as they remember it.

Ann’s dad, Bob Fish, made a trip back to the Congo for the first time in eight years last October. He spent three weeks in Kinshasa, where Ann, Ryan, and Randy all spent some of their school years. Here they are opening boxes of things their father bought that they recognize from their childhood. Among them are purple rolls of toilet paper, the consistency of construction paper. I can’t detect any scent, but the siblings all instinctively put the rolls to their noses.

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