by Rita F. Bartholomew
| When I looked in the mirror I saw someone Looking out of the mirror at me. I saw features inherited from Mom and Dad; Some of them were so obvious to see. And I’m sure if I’d known what to look for In that mirror, just as plain as could be I’d have seen other ancestral features Which had passed from my kin down to me. |
| For they are my people; They are a part of me. And although I don’t know them Or what they looked like, Those features are still there to see. |
| As I thought about life and its challenges And the problems I faced every day, I quite often felt that I was alone — That no other had had things this way. And yet something whispered, “That’s not true; There are others who faced what you do. Take a look at your ancestors’ histories ev’n though Up to now they’ve not meant much to you. |
| For they are your people, They are a part of you. And although you don’t know them As well as you could, The things they once did, now you do.” |
| So I took time to learn of their stories. I studied and pondered each line. I found therein much consolation for I learned That my problems were not only mine. Now perhaps as I try hard to find What each ancestor did in his test, The knowledge of how he succeeded or failed Might help me in doing my best. |
| For they are my people; They are a part of me. As I struggle to know them As well as I should, They’ll help me to grow and to be. |
| So, therefore, my beloved ancestors, I extend heart-felt thanks to you For your leaving a part of yourself with me, And I promise that I’ll try to do The same thing for my children who follow; I’ll try very had to leave Them more than your physical features, for I’ll Give them stories to which they might cleave. |
| For you are my people; You are a part of me. As I learn more about you And how you have lived, I’ll share you with posterity. |
This is so perfect, just what I think.
Thank you. The older I get, the more true I find it.