According to a well-worn proverb, a picture is worth a thousand words. In the January 2007 issue of Writing, we published a photograph this photograph in our "I,000 Words" column and asked you: What memory from your own life does this photograph prompt? What places or persons does it remind you of? Write a narrative essay that begins with the words "I remember ..."

Here is one of our favorite submissions. It comes to us from Rachel Ourand, a junior at Huntingtown High School in Huntingtown, MD. When she looked at this image, she was reminded of a photograph on the fourth page of her family album—a picture of a rusty, blue car with the seat pushed up to reveal a melted lunch box on the floor.

I remember it was the first day back from spring break. Aunt Kathy decided to take me and Mandy out to breakfast at Denny’s for the “special occasion” as she liked to call it.  
   I was in a blue dress and Mandy in jeans and a t-shirt.  She was going to middle school which is so much superior to my second-grade self. It was OK with me though. I loved Mandy and thought it made her that much cooler.  I had a middle schooler to look out for me. What a cousin she was!  
   So I got up and put my pink backpack on the kitchen table.  I started the check list. 
   “Pencil?” My aunt asked.
   “Check.”  I answered.  
   “Book?” She always had to make sure everything is in place.
  “Check.” 
 “Paper?”
  “Check.”
  “Folder?”
 “Check”
 “OK, I think that’s it. Go put your shoes on. And where is Mandy? Mandy!”  She screamed.
 “Wait!  My lunch!”  I ran to the fridge.
 “Oh, yes. How could we ever forget Rachel’s lunch?!”  My aunt laughed.
   It was a very special lunch. I had especially made it the night before. I had a ham and cheese sandwich on “white bread” (at that age I didn’t really know the difference between whole wheat bread and regular bread I just liked to argue that “white bread” was the good kind), a Hi-C juice box, an apple, and lastly a fruit-roll-up. Last time we had fruit-roll-ups my brother, Mike, and Mandy had eaten them all before I got any and fruit-roll-ups were my favorite!  So I made sure that the next time we bought them I got one—the first one to be exact. 
   Anyway I set my lunch in my back pack in front of all my books because I didn’t want it to get squished.  Mandy came in ready to go and I put on my shoes and tied them.  Not too bad may I say for a six year old, double knots and all; I did it on my own.  We went outside and walked to the old rusty blue car.  I got in the back and set my back pack beside me so as not to hurt my lunch. Then Mandy got in the passenger side and handed me her books.  Man!  Those things were heavy!  I put them on the seat and set my book bag on top of them. 
 “OK, everyone have everything?” my aunt asked.
 “Yes, Mom. Now, let’s go!” Mandy said.
 “Rachel, do you have . . .”
 “Yes, Aunt Kathy. I have underwear.” Man, forget to put on underwear once in your life and they never let it go. I mean it was kindergarten and they had rushed me out of the house even though I kept trying to tell them I didn’t have any on under my dress. 


Aunt Kathy started the car and off we went. It was a bright and sunny morning and I keep looking out through the car window for people but I never found any.
 Next thing I knew the car broke down, not even two minutes from the Denny’s.  All we had to do is turn the corner and it was on our left.   I could see the end of the road and the turn! The car had enough power for my aunt to pull into someone’s drive way.  It was the last house in the neighborhood. 
 My aunt told us to stay in the car and she would go and knock on the door to use the phone and call my uncle.  I looked out the windows at the neighborhood and everything was quiet.  It was like one of those picture perfect neighborhoods with the ball in the lush green mowed lawns and all the cars neatly parked in their driveways.  The only thing missing was the people. 
 The floor of the car started to get warm and I could feel the heat through my shoes.
 “Mandy?”  I asked.
 “Hmm,” she replied.
 “Mandy, is the floor hot to you?  Because I can feel it and it’s hot.”
 “Yeah, it is getting warm.” At this point we both were looking at the floor of the car trying to figure out why it was so hot. 
 “Get out the car!  Get out the car!”  My aunt screamed at us.  I looked up and there was smoke coming out from the hood.  My aunt looked like a crazed maniac on the loose through the smoke with her arms flailing and her hair flying. It was kind of scary. 
 “What?!?” my cousin asked.  Then she looked up.  “Oh my. . . “
 “Get out of the car!”  My aunt was running to us.  We got out and backed up to the garage door.  In the meantime my aunt started screaming and running around the car. 
 “Call the ambulance!  Call the police! Call the fire department!”  On and on she went for about five minutes, circling the car in a running mode with her arms flailing and her shirt getting untucked. By this time the flames had grown up and were on top of the hood spreading back. 
 Then it dawned on my aunt to try other houses and see if they answered.  So she ran from house to house pounding on the doors and when no one answered she ran franticly to another. But no one was around.
 Now she was going to houses across the street.  She went to knock on the house three doors down and across the street from the one we were at and they answered.  Actually they opened the door before she knocks.
 “Honey, we already called the fire department and they’re on their way,” a nice old man said
 “Oh, oh!  Thank you!” She says through rigid breaths.
 “I will go stand with your kids.  What are their names?”  his wife asked. 
 “My kids?” My aunt asked confused.  She had become so worried about the fire that she had forgotten about me and my cousin. 
 “My kids!”  She repeated as she ran back to us.
 “Are you OK? Are you hurt?  Are you breathing?”  She spit the questions out so fast neither of us could reply. 
 “Um . . . Aunt Kathy, I did leave my lunch in the car.”  It had been on my mind ever since she had started pounding on the doors. I just didn’t want to say anything at the time. 
 “The firemen will get your lunch out,” she replied hastily.
 “And my books!  Because Mom I left my all of my school books and my homework in the car.”  Mandy made sure to let her know.
 After assuring her we were OK, she asked to use the nice couple’s phone.  They of course agreed and she called my uncle.
 All of a sudden, sirens were wailing and lights were flashing. A whole bunch of fireman came out of nowhere and we watched them from the end of the driveway where we were huddled in a half circle.  

The firemen started right away. One of them was talking to my aunt. He kept asking her a whole bunch of questions.  I started tugging on her arm trying to get her attention to remind her to tell him about my lunch.
 Back and forth they walked from the car to the fire truck, which was parked right in front of the drive way.  What they were doing I didn’t really pay attention to. I just wanted my lunch. 
 “Um excuse me, sir can you make sure to get my lunch. It’s in my back pack. On the back seat,” I asked as one of the firemen passes my way. 
 “I left my lunch in the car, can you get it out?”  I asked another.
I was in the middle of tracking down the fire chief guy who is in charge when a dark blue truck pulled up right behind the fire truck.
 “Uncle George!”  I yelled and ran up to him.  He picked me up and gave me a hug.
 “You OK?”  He wasn’t really freaked out.  He wasn’t the type to show emotion.
 “Yeah, but I left my lunch in the car.”  I said.  I took his arm and led him over to Aunt Kathy.
 “Figures, you’d burn down the car driving to the school,” he said.  She just looked at him in shock.  Though I don’t know why because she is married to him and she knows how he is. 
 Since no one seemed to see the real emergency at hand, I decides to try and remind the firemen that my lunch was at stake.
 “Umm, excuse me sir?”  I asked one big man in a fire jacket.
 “Huh?  What?  Oh, what is it you want honey?” he said to me, after realizing I am the small one down below.
 “Umm … well … I kinda left my lunch in the car and it’s a really special lunch,” I began to explain.  He laughed and smiled at me.
 “Sure, I think I can get your lunch, but I don’t know,” he said.
 “Thanks, it is really important. I mean it’s got a fruit-roll-up and all.”
 “Fruit-roll-up?”
 “Yes sir, the first one out of the box.  And everyone knows the first one is the best because it’s the freshest.”
He laughed harder.
 “Ok, I’ll try.” he told me.

Later that day we were sitting home and my grand mom came through the door.
 “Grandma! Grandma!  I’ve got something to tell you!”  I yelled in excitement as she bent down to get a hug.  She laughed and opened her arms for me.
 “You do?”  She asked curiously.  I being six at the time always had the inside scoop on what was happening with whom in the family and neighborhood.  Little ears can pick up quite a lot when everyone thinks you’re sleeping. 
 “Yeah, Aunt Kathy burnt down the car today!”  I said a little too loud.  My aunt just looked shocked and walked into the kitchen while my uncle laughed. 
 “She did?”
 “Yeah she did!  And the firemen came and I saw the fire truck up close.  But you know what grandma?”  I said.
 “What?” she asked.
 “I left my lunch in the car right?  And so I asked every fireman there if he could get it and they told me they would. And Mandy left her books and so the firemen decided they could only save one thing and you know what grandma? They decided that Mandy’s books were too important to save and left my lunch!”
 “They did?”
 “Yeah they did.  And grandma it was a really special lunch.  I mean I had a fruit-roll-up and all.  And so when it came down to it do they save my lunch? NO!  No they have to save the books!” 
By this time grandma walked to the couch and was laughing really hard with Uncle George chuckling beside her. 
 “I know! What were they thinking! How could they let my special lunch burn?”  I kept going … and still go on today about it.
 So if you go through the family album, on the fourth page you’ll see a picture of a rusty old blue car with the seat pushed up just so you can see a melted lunch box on the floor.