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More poems about Family History
IT’S OBEDIENCE THAT COUNTS
I can think back to winding reel to reel
Many an old film and disappointment feel
As every name appeared except my own.
With aching arm I would give a moan,
Then start again just incase I was wrong
And there was a relative among the throng.
This time wind much slower and maybe see
In the badly written pages one belonging to me.
Another pastime that seems of little avail
But to cause amusement to those beyond the veil,
Is to go around old church yards names to take
Of those long forgotten and a great effort make
To read a name calved on soft stone in 1673,
Hundreds who need temple work doing you see,
Then when you think it useless all the work done
Nearly forty years later then a battle seemed won
Someone had used those grave yard names to trace
His family tree, you should see the smile on our face!
We follow the teachings and do the Master’s will,
Not always that successful or so it seems, until
The realization comes it’s obedience that counts,
And sometimes there are extra blessings that mounts,
Until you feel that too many blessing come your way
Just because you were willing to serve on many a day.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 10 January 2005