Kodak Camera Winter
A simple birthday gift, a profound change
The Kodak camera was more than just a birthday gift. It brought a new outlook for a pre-teen boy. Larry D. Smith shares his memory.
A simple film camera changed the way I saw the world. As best I can remember, it was my 11th or 12th birthday. Since my birthday falls on December 31st – New Year’s Eve – it had always felt like a big deal. Every year, my parents would host a gathering, filling our home with family, laughter, games, and the clinking of celebratory glasses. While the occasion was primarily about ringing in the new year, it also meant that many of my relatives felt obligated to bring me a small birthday gift – a gesture I always appreciated.
But this birthday was different.
My parents handed me a neatly wrapped box with a tag that simply read, “Happy Birthday.” I peeled back the paper to reveal a small, rectangular device that would forever change the way I looked at the world: a brand-new Kodak film camera. Inside the box, nestled beside the camera, was a fresh roll of black-and-white film and a simple carrying strap. At the time, I had no idea that this little gift would open my eyes in ways I had never imagined.
The next morning – New Year’s Day – I woke to a breathtaking winter scene. A fresh blanket of snow covered the ground, untouched and glistening under a brilliant blue sky. The air was crisp, and a gentle breeze brushed against my face as I stepped into our small backyard, my new camera clutched tightly in my hands.
For a moment, I hesitated. “Now what?” I wondered. What should I take pictures of?
That’s when I truly looked at the world around me. I noticed the silence first – how the snow seemed to muffle every sound except for the occasional creak of tree branches swaying in the wind and the distant chirp of a bird. The sky stretched above me in an impossibly deep shade of blue, reflecting onto the snow, casting soft, bluish shadows across the landscape. The trees, once unnoticed, now stood out in stark contrast against the brilliant white canvas of winter.
I lifted the camera to my eye and began to capture the beauty before me. I wasn’t just taking pictures – I was preserving a feeling, a quiet sense of wonder that I never wanted to forget. Click after click, I tried to capture not only what I saw but also what I felt.
By the time I finished the roll of film, I was eager to take more, which led to an inevitable conversation with my father about why I suddenly needed more film. Looking back, I can only imagine him and my mother wondering if giving a child a camera that required film was a wise decision.
That winter day, so many years ago, remains vivid in my memory – not just because of what I saw, but because of what I discovered. That camera didn’t just take pictures; it awakened in me a lifelong passion for truly seeing the world, for pausing to appreciate the natural beauty that surrounds us every single day.
I will always cherish that Kodak camera – not just for the images it captured, but for the perspective it gave me.
Larry D. Smith was raised in a steel town in Ohio during the 1950s and 1960s, where he learned the value of hard work, perseverance, and open-mindedness. Following military service and college, he built a long career in education as a teacher, administrator, and associate professor of school leadership. In retirement, Larry enjoys painting, creating stained glass, and discovering his passion for writing.
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