This Tiny Object Holds An Important Part Of Our Family’s Story
NAPERVILLE - WHEATON - GLEN ELLYN - ELMHURST - GENEVA - ST. CHARLES - BARRINGTON - BARTLETT PHOTOGRAPHER
by Alicia Staley Johnson
Hello my friend!
This week felt full in all the best ways.
We had a Mimi and Papa sleepover with our grandson—two whole days of the kind of moments you wish you could bottle up and keep forever. Truly the best.
In between that, it was a busy week in the studio—four seniors, a headshot, and a sweet newborn session—mixed with bits of gardening whenever I could sneak outside.
I’ve also been working on getting myself back on track… more whole foods, less sugar (which, if I’m being honest, came with a little crankiness at first 😅). But I’m starting to feel it—in a good way. More energy, more clarity… a bit more like myself again. I think I needed that reset more than I realized.
And we wrapped it all up with a Saturday morning at the Wheaton French Market with the whole family… which felt like the perfect ending to a really good week.
Soft Focus: The Smallest Things We Carry
Recently, my mom handed me something small.
A tiny pair of wooden shoes.
And I know—on the surface, it sounds like the kind of thing you might tuck into a drawer without much thought. But this… this is one of her most treasured possessions. And that says a lot, especially coming from someone who has carefully held onto a lifetime of family heirlooms.
In our family, things have always mattered.
Not in a material way—but in a story way.
Even though our DNA traces us to Ireland and England, Scotland and France, our family’s roots run deep into Germany. And from everything I’ve been told, that part of our lineage carried a particular kind of care… a belief that what you owned wasn’t just something you used—it was something you preserved, protected, and passed on.
My great-grandparents lived that way.
Maybe it came from living through the Depression. Maybe it was simply who they were. But they treated everything as if it held meaning. As if it deserved to last.
And because of that, so many things did.
They made their way down through the generations—antiques, keepsakes, pieces of a life that refused to be forgotten.
But these tiny wooden shoes… they hold a different kind of weight.
They carry a story.
My grandfather, Gerald Diez, served in World War II. Not from a distance, but right in the middle of it—Normandy, the Battle of the Bulge, Remagen. The kinds of places that reshape a person forever.
And if you knew him, you’d understand why that feels almost impossible to reconcile.
He was gentle. Kind. A man who moved through the world with a quiet depth.
I’ve often tried to imagine him there—wading ashore in Normandy, moving through battle after battle—and I can’t quite make it make sense. How someone so soft-hearted carried so much.
He came home with a Purple Heart.
A war hero, by every definition… but especially to us.
And somewhere within all of that, there were choices being made every day—small ones, quiet ones—that revealed who a person really was.
At that time, it wasn’t uncommon for soldiers—on many sides of the war—to gather items from abandoned homes and send them back to their families.
War is brutal. War leaves so much behind.
Homes emptied. Lives interrupted. Objects once loved, suddenly without a place to belong.
And in the midst of all of that, many did what they could to hold onto something… to bring a piece of it home.
But that never sat right with my grandfather.
He couldn’t shake the thought that one day, someone might return… and find something missing that mattered.
So he didn’t take from homes.
He didn’t gather what wasn’t his.
Which is why the way he came to these shoes matters.
He found them while he rested under a tree.
Small. Hand-carved. Delicate. Smaller than the palm of a hand, the shape of a woman’s shoe, a high heel. Intricate in a way that makes you pause and wonder who made them… and why.
He sat with them for a while.
And then he made a quiet decision—to keep them.
Not as something taken.
But as something found.
Something already left behind.
He placed them in his rucksack and carried them with him through the rest of the war.
Through everything.
We don’t know where they came from.
Maybe another soldier carved them during long stretches of waiting. Maybe they were once a gift. Maybe they were meant for someone who never returned home.
That part of the story is gone.
But somehow, the shoes remained.
And over time, they became part of ours.
What I keep coming back to is this—
Out of everything my grandfather could have carried… everything he lived through… this is what made it home with him.
Not diamonds, silver or paintings. Not any of the valuable items that were crated and shipped back to families..
Just a small, unassuming object.
And yet it holds so much.
It holds the weight of where he’s been.
The tenderness of who he was.
The miracle that he came home at all.
We don’t know if they were a source of comfort for him. Or a bit of quiet luck tucked into his pack.
But I do know this—
Sometimes the smallest things end up carrying the biggest stories.
Passed from one set of hands to another, until the story becomes the inheritance.
WHAT I’M LOVING THIS WEEK
Inspiring Follow: @vivietmargot
There is something about Charlotte Reiss that just makes you want to slow down a little.
Through Vivi et Margot, she shares more than beautiful pieces for the home—it really feels like she’s sharing a way of living. One that’s rooted in Provence… in storytelling, in connection, and in paying attention to the little details that make life feel meaningful.
Everything she puts out into the world feels thoughtful and unhurried. Soft linens, timeworn textures, simple moments that somehow feel elevated without trying too hard.
It’s not just about creating a beautiful home… it’s about creating a beautiful life.
And if you’ve ever dreamed of stepping into that slower rhythm, she also hosts Provence retreats through Vivi et Margot Provence Retreat—which honestly feel like such a special way to experience it all in real life.
If you’ve been craving a slower pace or a little more intention in your everyday… she’s definitely someone to follow.
What I’m Loving: The Original CobraHead Weeder & Cultivator
There are a lot of beautiful things in the garden right now…
but let’s talk about the real hero for a second.
The Original CobraHead Weeder & Cultivator.
I didn’t expect to love a gardening tool this much… but here we are.
With all the planting I’ve been doing lately (and the never-ending battle with weeds), this has quickly become the one thing I reach for over and over again. It’s sharp enough to cut through just about anything—even the stubborn soil—and precise enough to get in between plants without disturbing everything you’ve worked so hard to grow.
It somehow manages to feel like an extension of your hand… which, if you’ve ever spent hours in the garden, you know makes all the difference.
Weeding, cultivating, digging little holes for planting—it does all of it. And does it well.
Not glamorous… but absolutely essential.
And honestly? Anything that makes the less-fun parts of gardening a little easier means more time enjoying the part I actually love.
Local-ish: That Pickle Guy
There’s something really special about supporting a local business with a story behind it… and even more special when it’s someone you know and love.
That’s exactly how I feel about That Pickle Guy, owned by my friend Kristen Frederick’s husband, Greg.
What started back in 2004 as Greg’s way of recreating the flavors he grew up with here in Chicago has grown into something pretty incredible—now found in stores across the Midwest, in over 100 Costco locations, and also shipped from their website nationwide.
But what I love most is that it still feels personal.
Everything is made in small batches, with simple, all-natural ingredients… the way it was meant to be.
They’re also at local farmers markets, which is honestly my favorite way to shop them—I always pick up my son’s favorite pickles and my favorite Olive Muffalata at the Wheaton French Market.
And I have to say—that his Olive Muffalata is one of those things that you try once and then find yourself adding to everything.
Because at the end of the day, it’s not just what’s in the jar…
it’s the story and the flavor of home that comes with it.
Cap & Gown & College Tee Sessions
Such a special way to mark this moment.
Our Cap & Gown & College Tee Sessions are a simple, meaningful way to celebrate both where your senior has been—and where they’re headed next.
Our 25-minute session includes photos in their high school cap and gown and/or their future college t-shirt, and can be done inside or outside the studio.
Includes 3-6 digital images depending on the package selected.
*Cap & gown not provided.
with love and light,
Alicia Staley Johnson
of Alicia’s Photography
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