In a message dated 2/12/2001 1:55:37 PM Central Standard Time, hurricaned1@excite.com writes: > stones I was led to my other "Krause" ancestors that were nowhere > near > the first one and not indexed in the office. It was if they were meant to be > found. > That is so true and I have often had that same feeling myself. The day I found my ancestors at Prairie Home Cemetery in Waukesha (I had been searching for them in Monroe County, NY and here they were less than 20 miles from my home!) this poem appeared in one of the e mail lists and I thought you would appreciate it also. Joan 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 did not know that I exist You died and I was born. Yet each of us are cells of you In flesh, in blood, in bone. Our blood contracts and beats a pulse Entirely not our own. Dear Ancestor, the place you filled One hundred 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.