There isn’t really anything too special about this slightly gaudy lighted 3-D print in and of itself. I’m sure it must have been created in some mass production of the 60’s and that housewives everywhere loved it. The value of it is in the weird story of how I came to have it. It hangs on my dining room wall not because it is particularly appealing, but because it’s an interesting conversation piece and if I ever get rid of it my sisters would be upset.
I think that the arc is cause by the 3-D effect catching the light.
Now for the story,
My mother died in 1972, I was almost seven years old. I don’t have a lot of memories of her and the ones I do have are not what one would call fond memories. When she died my siblings and I got scattered about among the foster system and relatives and though we tried it was very hard to keep in touch through the years.
We settled in the burbs renting a small home next door to a lady who was dying of cancer. I was a stay at home mom and spent a lot of my time taking care of her. When she passed on her kids offered to sell us her home and we accepted the offer. They left a lot of her old stuff in the home telling us to just throw it away. This print was on the wall. I kept it, One doesn’t just throw Jesus in the trash…
After we all started “adulting” we siblings started making some reconnections. When one of my older siblings first visited our home she was more than a little freaked out by the print. Turns out all five of us sisters have one exactly like it and each of them landed in our possession by accident and that when our mother was alive she had one too. How weird is that? I don’t recall mom’s version but I spent a lot of my time hiding in the woods when she was alive so not much time in her house.
