From: Jan, <A
HREF="mailto:unicorn@sun-spot.com">unicorn@sun-spot.com</A>
Beginnings (from the "Sunday Afternoon Rocking" series)
"We will begin again". How many times would the words be said in a
family? We can trace them back as far as we can trace and trace no
more. And we can know those words were said since time began. Those
words would have been spoken, or words very similar.
Were those the words my fifth great grandparents spoke as they boarded a
ship from Scotland and began the harrowing journey to America? Would they
have stood arm in arm on a deck gazing across unending gray roiling
waters, shivering, and wondering what was waiting? Would they have feared
for their children in the hold below, and hoped only that the choice they
made would yield a better life for those who could survive? Would the
feeling in their hearts not be the same that so many of us have felt, in
different times, under different circumstances, but making life choices
just the same?
"I will begin again." Were those the words an ancestor spoke when he fled
the potato famine of Ireland? Would he have been so desperate that he
little thought of what was waiting, and considered more the simple relief
of running from a place that held nothing but emptiness? Or would he have
believed the prevalent stories of the time, and thought of America as a
place of richness with streets lined with gold for the claiming? Would the
words "begin again" have had new meaning as he realized that the richness
of America could only be realized with hard work and the resolution of a
survivor? That must have been so, for I know his story, and he bent to
pick no gold from the streets. Yet he survived.
Were those the words another grandfather spoke when he indentured himself
to come to the same country? He must have been a strong young man, sure of
his capabilities to survive the hardships of indentureship he chose for
himself, sure that he would be able to emerge from those years
unscathed. And he would have seen the end of those years as his real
beginning, would have clung to the date and memorized it, repeating it over
and over like a mantra when times were hard. For this is what any human
making his choice would have done.
"We will begin again." Were those the words a Cherokee grandfather spoke
when he left his homelands in North Carolina and shepherded his family into
a white world? Were those the words other grandparents spoke to one
another as the eastern shores became thicker and thicker with settlers, and
the mountains to the west loomed with both dangers and promise? I suspect
those words, or words very similar, have been said many times in a
family. They would have been said always with a slight twinge of fear for
the unknown, and always with a well of the hopefulness that is the legacy
of all of mankind. They would have felt the same things we feel and have
felt, each time we have begun again.
This week my mother spoke of beginnings in the 1950's. "They thought we
were crazy," she said, as she described how my father had left a lucrative
job because he did not like it. It was the second time he had walked away
from a life that would have made mine very different. He had walked from
the ancestral farm knowing a living there would be hard to coax in the
times that were coming. He had walked from a factory job in the city
because it held no joy. He had taken a job at half the pay, and together
with his young wife and new baby, they had ventured to a town where they
knew no one, far from kinfolk, far from cultures they had known
before. And all they had to their name was a new car that would take half
their income each month to pay for. "They thought we were crazy," my Mama
repeated, shaking her head. But "they" were wrong. We will never know how
this family's lives may have turned out had other choices been made, but we
know that the choices made led to a good life for all of them. Perhaps
there was wisdom in the choices, perhaps there was an angel on their
shoulders, whatever, but it turned out. My parents were young, younger
than some of my own children are now. It is difficult to imagine how young
they were, how lacking in the wisdom of life they would have been, yet I
know it is true for I have long surpassed the age they were at the
time. They had much to learn of life, and they were making permanent
choices that would affect all of their life to come. They must have been
fearful, and hope must have outweighed the fear. They had decided to begin.
And I have decided to begin more than once. When one beginning waned to a
hopeless ending, I would look around for another path, and choose another
beginning. As all my ancestors have before me. And I suspect I have felt
much the same feelings with each choice for a new beginning. As you
have. As we all have. It is a time of new beginnings. And with the hope
in our hearts that is the legacy of all mankind, with the angel on our
shoulders that is ours to welcome, we will begin again many times over.
Happy New Year to all, and may all of your beginnings be bright hopeful ones!
jan
Copyright ©2001, 2000JanPhilpot
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Thanks, jan)
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