From Family Tree Magazine’s e-zine ~ December 6, 2001 ~ tip from
Peggy Clemens Lauritzen
|
Cemetery Calling Cards
Before a recent
family history trip to Kentucky, I went to a bargain/closeout
store and purchased several inexpensive bunches of silk flowers,
the average price being 79 cents or less. To each one, I attached
a short poem that I printed & laminated. On the reverse side, I
included my name, home and e-mail addresses, and encouraged
whoever may come across this grave to contact me.
Dear Ancestor,
Your tombstone stands among the rest;
Neglected and alone
The name and date are chiseled out
On polished marbled stone.
It reaches out to all who care
It is too late to mourn.
You do not know that I exist
You died and I was born.
Yet each of us are cells of you
In flesh, in blood and bone.
Dear ancestor, the place you filled
So many years ago
Spreads out among the ones you left
Who would have loved you so.
I wonder if you lived and loved,
I wonder if you knew
That someday I would find this spot,
And come to visit you.
On the flip side:
The grave you are visiting in one of my beloved ancestors. I am
trying to create a family tree for this family. Please contact:
[insert contact information here].
From Family Tree Magazine’s e-zine ~ December 6, 2001 ~ tip from
Peggy Clemens Lauritzen. |
Something to Think About
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish
farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for
his
family, he heard a cry for help coming from
a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the
bog.
There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a
terrified boy, screaming and struggling to
free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what
could have been a slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the
Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed
nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the
father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.
"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved
my son's life." "No, I can't accept
payment for what I did,"
the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer.
At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the
door
of the family hovel. "Is that your son?" the
nobleman
asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly. "I'll make
you a deal. Let me provide him with the level
of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is
anything
like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we
both will be proud of." And that the nobleman did.
Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools
and in time, he graduated from St. Mary's Hospital
Medical School in London, and went on to become
known throughout the world as the noted Sir
Alexander
Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.
Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was
saved
from the bog was stricken with pneumonia.
What saved his life this time? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.
His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.
Someone once said:
What goes around comes around.
Work like you don't need the money.
Love like you've never been hurt.
Dance like nobody's watching.
Sing like nobody's listening.
Live like it's heaven on earth.
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