Real-life Magic Found in Polaroids

She was in distress. Maybe distress is too strong of a word, but a small spec of panic was emerging in her expression. A two-year-old fidgeting at the dinner table that was not her own revealed my own sense of uncomfort. No matter the ambiance, restaurants have yet to replace the cozy nature of home. I pulled the strap of the bag off my chair while simultaneously asking her if I could take her picture. Suddenly her whimpering went silent, as she watched me pull out a Polaroid camera. She straightened her posture and flashed a smile that can only be described as the epitome of ultimate cuteness and childlike innocence. I snapped the photo, the flash igniting as the film rolled out the top of the camera. I handed it to her. She looked at it confused, only seeing the white gloss. 

“Watch!” I said. “Just wait. Your face will start to appear.”

She looked at me quizzically and then back down at the film. 

“It’s magic,” I said as the image slowly crept into view. 

She held it up showing her parents the photo of herself, excited, proud, amazed, and no longer disturbed by the unfamiliar chair.

Polaroid sustainer, Oskar Smolokowski, once said that Polaroids capture the magic of “everyday single moments,” ultimately empowering creativity. That day I saw this exact phenomena, what I already knew, unfold from the viewpoint of someone who had never experienced this particular magic, feeling that somehow I was a part of creating something otherworldly, making an “everyday single moment” remarkable.