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I look for interesting details of the wedding market and report on them here. I have traveled the country this year speaking with many photographers about everything from workflow to marketing... Everyone I met was willing to participate in a meaningful way to the discussion of market trends. That showed me that you are all very passionate about the business of wedding photography! I will continue to report on trends here as I see them come up in the industry. Please bookmark my blog, pass it around to friends and of course comment on what you find here! Thanks for visiting my blog, I appreciate your time! Putting together a new blog over at so will be slowly transitioning to that!

Monday, April 16, 2007

Hijack! -- Cup of Joe

So I found this on Joe Photo's blog Cup of Joe and thought it really struck a chord...thanks Joe.

Lady, Are You Rich?

Life is about so much more than money. May this day reveal to you how much you can truly be grateful for.

Lady, Are You Rich? by Marion Doolan

They huddled inside the storm door—two children in ragged outgrown coats.

"Any old papers, lady?”

I was busy. I wanted to say no—until I looked down at their feet. Thin little sandals, sopped with sleet.

"Come in and I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa.”

There was no conversation. Their soggy sandals left marks upon the hearthstone. I served them cocoa and toast with jam to fortify against the chill outside. Then I went back to the kitchen and started again on my household budget.

The silence in the front room struck through to me. I looked in. The girl held the empty cup in her hands, looking at it. The boy asked in a flat voice, "Lady . . . are you rich?"

“Am I rich? Mercy, no!"

I looked at my shabby slipcovers. The girl put her cup back in its saucer—carefully.

“Your cups match your saucers."

Her voice was old, with a hunger that was not of the stomach. They left then, holding their bundles of papers against the wind. They hadn't said thank you. They didn't need to. They had done more than that. Plain blue pottery cups and saucers. But they matched.

I tested the potatoes and stirred the gravy. Potatoes and brown gravy, a roof over our heads, my man with a good steady job—these things matched, too.

I moved the chairs back from the fire and tidied the living room. The muddy prints of small sandals were still wet upon my hearth. I let them be. I want them there in case I ever forget again how very rich I am.

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