Finally, you decided to pick me up. You know, how many times, I called you and failed just to tell you about my tale. Actually, I was clicked for a government document, and as you can clearly see, they were all in their signature temperament. When your father picked me up for the first time, I was in an envelope. Then, after reaching home, he took me out and, to show me to everyone, he gave a shout. Everyone looked at me with a cheerful smile, and I remembered your great-grandmother was astonished because I captured the moment alive. Then your grandmother took hold of me while sitting on the home's threshold. Then I was pasted onto the document that your grandmother placed in her trunk. The blue ink on my edges, as you can see, stained me then when your grandfather signed the document with his thumbprint. Please don't clean or polish me ever, because I want to hold these stains with me forever. Since your family grew, I was taken off that document and replaced with a new one that holds the others and you. The two from me have now gone from this world. And for them, I am always ready to be heard. I think, this time, it is enough. Can you please place me again with that old stuff?