I have been researching my Family Heritage since 2022. I have found treasures and sadness along the way, but thankfully, mostly treasures. Stories and photos of good, kind, hard-working people and those who loved them. I am having much greater success learning about Family in the US, but I am gradually learning to navigate and interpret documentation in other Countries' systems as well. As much as possible, I aim to stick to official historical documents, and I am trying hard to not make assumptions about the information I find.
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FindAGrave and Ancestry Member LynneAlber, who happens to be a long-distant relative, had this Poem on her Ancestry Profile. Research-to-date indicates 'Author Unknown'. The Poem resonates deeply with me, and I assume, others who are on this journey. It brought me to tears.

This poem "The Story Tellers"says it all.

We are the chosen.

My feelings are in each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve.

To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before.

We are the story tellers of the tribe. All tribes have one.

We have been called as it were by our genes. Those who have gone cry out to us:Tell our story, So we do.

In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count.

How many times have I told the ancestors you have a wonderful family you would be proud of us?

How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who am I and why do I do the things I do?

It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying I can't let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh.

It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today.

It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go and build a life for their family.

It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Nation.

It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us.

That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them.

So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are them and they are us.

So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family.

It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers.

That, is why I do my family genealogy.

Written by Unknown Author

I have been researching my Family Heritage since 2022. I have found treasures and sadness along the way, but thankfully, mostly treasures. Stories and photos of good, kind, hard-working people and those who loved them. I am having much greater success learning about Family in the US, but I am gradually learning to navigate and interpret documentation in other Countries' systems as well. As much as possible, I aim to stick to official historical documents, and I am trying hard to not make assumptions about the information I find.
------
FindAGrave and Ancestry Member LynneAlber, who happens to be a long-distant relative, had this Poem on her Ancestry Profile. Research-to-date indicates 'Author Unknown'. The Poem resonates deeply with me, and I assume, others who are on this journey. It brought me to tears.

This poem "The Story Tellers"says it all.

We are the chosen.

My feelings are in each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve.

To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before.

We are the story tellers of the tribe. All tribes have one.

We have been called as it were by our genes. Those who have gone cry out to us:Tell our story, So we do.

In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count.

How many times have I told the ancestors you have a wonderful family you would be proud of us?

How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who am I and why do I do the things I do?

It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying I can't let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh.

It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today.

It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go and build a life for their family.

It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Nation.

It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us.

That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them.

So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are them and they are us.

So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family.

It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers.

That, is why I do my family genealogy.

Written by Unknown Author