From Past Generations...

Below is an email sent to myself and others in my family from my Mother's cousin Jackie. Jackie has gone through the trouble of sorting through many of the older papers saved my ancestors. I say ancestors, but that makes the relation seem so far removed. Really, what cousin Jackie is sorting through is papers belonging to my great-grandmother.

Personally, I was touched by the poems that Jackie found and sent to us and wanted to share them with all of you. Some of these written words made me laugh, others were a little more sobering. Mostly I was interested by their styling and how it reflects a period of old.

I'll start by sharing the email Jackie sent to indtroduce these works (I think it'll give you some important background).

Jackie's voice Still weeding through things and today's found things Irene and Beany (my great aunts on my mother's side) had separated for me from Grandmommie's (my great-grandmother) trunk. I think some of the little thoughts/poems she saved show a lot about her character and I want to share them with you all. We are all blessed to have her as part of ourheritage. The newspapers are all clippings, yellowed and brittle, no dates on them but something in each one made her cut it out and save it. It gives us all glimpse into things that mattered to her.She saved longer ones also and liked religious thoughts but the sampling below I think shows how she felt towards her family and others. I never heard her say anything bad about others and she loved her children and grandchildren so very much. A nice legacy of caring and love. The first one is a good example of being non-judgmental and seeing the goodness in others, and I know from memory she lived that.
Love you all,
Jackie

By Robert Louis Stevenson

In men whom men condemn as ill,
I find so much of goodness still.
In men whom men pronounce divine,
I find so much of sin and blot,
I hesitate to draw the line
Between the two where God has not.

God's Favored by Katherine Edelman

God gave to some of us below
Some special gift or grace:
A skillful hand, high intellect,
Beauty of form or face.

But to the greatest number,
(These He must love the best)
He gave the happy, trusting heart
And courage for Life's test.

No author listed, old cracked newsprint

This morning he tracked up my kitchen
Which I had cleaned all spick and span,
And never once said he was sorry--
When I scolded he chuckled and ran.

He took my best shoes from the closet
To use in constructing a train,
And hammered the lid of a kettleTill
I never can use it again.

He captured the switch on my dresser
For his horsie that needed a tail,
And I'm sure he's been into the sugar,
For it's scattered 'round outside the pail.

But now as I sit by the firelight
With his drowsy head close to my breast
I know I should still love him madly
Tho' he battered up all I possessed.

The Three Old Ladies by Mary Mapes Dodge

There was an old lady all dress in silk
Who lived upon lemons and buttermilk;
And, thinking the world was a sour old place,
She carried its acid all over her face.

Another old lady, all dressed in patches,
Lived upon nothing but lucifer matches;
So the world, it made her strangle and cough,
And sure as you rubbed her you set her off.

Another old lady, all sunny and neat,
Who lived upon sugar and everything sweet,
Exclaimed, when she heard of their troubles,
"I never!For the world is so nice I could live on forever."

Now, children, take your choice
Of the food your hearts shall eat;
There are sourish thoughts and brimstone thoughts,
And thoughts all good and sweet;

And whatever the heart feeds on,
Dear children, trust to me,
Is precisely what this queer old world
Will seem to you to be.

When All the World Forgets You - author unknown - for a mother with 8 children I found this sweet (it was my great-grandmother who had the 8 children).

When all the great lights beckon to you,
And you seek the bright and gay,
When new friends and fancies call you
As you drift along the way,
You know not what the world may see,
You never have a care,
You never think of home, sweet home,
Or the one who's waiting there.

When all the world forgets you,
And you find yourself alone,
When all your friends desert you
And you are far from home,
Remember, there is someone
Who loves and always will--
When all the world forgets you
There's a mother waiting still.

There comes a time to each one,
When your greatest hope will fail;
When your friends you thought the truest,
Leave you far beyond the trail.
'Tis then your thoughts drift back again
To the home you once held true.
And the lonely heart that's watching there
And waiting still for you.

The Mother - author unknown

Yes, it's hard labor to cook for 'em,
Read up new things in the book for 'em,
Beat things an' stir 'em an' baste for 'em,
Hurry and flurry an' haste for 'em,
Get all excited and "het" for 'em,
Sizzle and sozzle an' sweat for 'em

Still, when the job is all done for 'em,
Eatin' the dinner's such fun for 'em,
Why, I just love to be near 'em,
Seein' how good things appear to 'em,
Father's as bad as the rest of 'em,
Eating as much as the best of 'em.

Thankful--dear God for the whole of 'em,
Body an' breath and' the soul of 'em,
Nothing, I say is too fine for 'em,
Darlings-- the whole lusty nine of 'em,
We have to work for the keep of 'em,
But, ah--the reward that we reap of 'em!

Who is Richer? Author unknown

Who is richer than the farmer?
Who has nobler work to do?
He, whom all the world depends on
Owns, a treasure known to few:
Owns the sky and all the sunshine.
Owns the hills, the woods, the creek;
Owns the landscape all about him
Far as searching eye can seek.
No, 'tis not in gold and silver
That the farmer marks his gain
'Tis the joy and wealth of freedom
As he tills his field of grain,
As he gathers in his harvest,
As he sows them out again .
In his work he finds his sermons
Learns from Nature's book that God
In the eternal round of seasons,
Brings fulfillment for His Word.

Too Busy to Live (Commended to Persons Afflicted with Hurryitis) by Grenville Kleiser in the Detroit Free Press

He hadn't time to greet the day,
He hadn't time to laugh or play;
He hadn't time to wait a while,
He hadn't time to give a smile;
He hadn't time to glean the news,
He hadn't time to dream or muse;
He hadn't time to train his mind,
He hadn't time to just be kind;
He hadn't time to see a joke,
He hadn't time to write his folk;
He hadn't time to eat a meal,
He hadn't time to deeply feel;
He hadn't time to take a rest,
He hadn't time to act his best;
He hadn't time to help a cause,
He hadn't time to make a pause;
He hadn't time to pen a note,
He hadn't time to cast a vote;
He hadn't time to sing a song,
He hadn't time to right a wrong;
He hadn't time to send a gift,
He hadn't time to practice thrift.
He hadn't time to exercise,
He hadn't time to scan the skies;
He hadn't time to heed a cry,
He hadn't time to to say good-bye;
He hadn't time to study poise,
He hadn't time to repress noise;
He hadn't time to go abroad,
He hadn't time to serve his God
He hadn't time to lend or give,
He hadn't time to really live;
He hadn't time to read this verse,
He hadn't time -- he's in a hearse.