There comes a time in every mans or womans life to show the progeny the ancestral homestead. Mine arrived last year in June. I took my entire family, we were ten in all, to the Czech Republic. Among us were four teenagers and we had expected total bedlam. To our surprise everyone took in the sites and views in Prag with sheer delight.They were fascinated by the old buildings, the atmosphere and the strange language, although in every restaurant visited, hotel and hostel we stayed in, english was spoken. Everyone had digital cameras and we took more pictures than we could possibly handle back home. A recent count showed we had taken 853 pictures. In fact there are still some that need reviewing and sorting. Our highpoint came when we arrived at our ancestral village of Bludov. We had made arrangements earlier with a retired schoolteacher who showed us the vistas and the old homestead of the Soural clan that had lived there since the mid sixteen hundreds. I am sure that more than one loose brick fragment was picked up around the house and made its way across the Atlantic and now graces the bedchamber as a good luck charm. At lunch we were treated to a fabulous traditional Czech dinner that included veprova, zely, kolatche, buchty, local beer and southern moravian wine. A truly memorable event. After dinner we were introduced to the choir director and the church organist who, accompanied on a piano board, proceeded to teach us a 19th Century village song."Okolo bludova tece voda" Everyone sang the words out loud. We recorded the effort and play it at family parties. We were then given a tour of the Zierotin Manor to which, during their lifetimes, our early ancestors were indentured.That too left an impression on our young folk. This was followed by a visit to the church where generations of our ancestors worshipped, were christened, married and received their last rites. For the young at heart a surprise was waiting. We were allowed to climb up the church bell tower and look at the clock mechanism that is set every morning to the exact time by the church Kaplan. The digital cameras were busy recording the vistas from the steeple, out of all four windows. Our oldest Grand daughter was allowed to practice on the church organ. Finally the mayor presented us with a document officially recognizing the visit to our ancestral village, signed and certified with the village seal. Framed, it now graces our dining room wall. A hefty cash injection into the church coffers left everyone happy. It was indeed a trip of a lifetime. Frank Frank Soural qlt@cyberus.ca