Thought you might all enjoy this: It was the first day of census, and all through the land >>each pollster was ready ... a black book in hand. >>He mounted his horse for a long dusty ride, >>his book and some quills were tucked close by his side. >>A long winding ride down a road barely there, >>toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air. >> >>The woman was tired, with lines on her face >>and wisps of brown hair she tucked back into place. >>She gave him some water ... as they sat at the table >>and she answered his questions ... the best she was able. >>He asked her of children. Yes, she had quite a few -- >>the oldest was twenty, the youngest not two. >> >>She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red; >>his sister, she whispered, was napping in bed. >>She noted each person who lived there with pride, >>and she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside. >>He noted the sex, the color, the age... >>the marks from the quill soon filled up the page. >> >>At the number of children, she nodded her head >>and saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead. >>The places of birth she "never forgot" >>was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon ... or not? >>They came from Scotland, of that she was clear, >>but she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here. >> >>They spoke of employment, of schooling and such, >>they could read some ... and write some ... though really not much. >>When the questions were answered, his job there was done >>so he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun. >>We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear, >>"May God bless you all for another ten years." >> >>Now picture a time warp ... its' now you and me >>as we search for the people on our family tree. >>We squint at the census and scroll down so slow >>as we search for that entry from long, long ago. >>Could they only imagine on that long ago day >>that the entries they made would effect us this way? >> >>If they knew would they wonder at the yearning we feel >>and the searching that makes them so increasingly real. >>We can hear if we listen the words they impart >>through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart. >> >>--- Author unknown.