Strong Roots and Many Blooms

That is how I describe my family tree.

Over a century ago my ancestors brought their European ways and religious values, packed in their tattered trunks and suitcases and came in search of a better life. Leaving behind the oppression that kept their quality of life at the standard chosen by the Emperor, Czar, King etc.

Faith brought them here. They had no idea of what they would experience. The first disappointment was that the streets were NOT paved with gold and that immigrants were immediately placed at the bottom of society. But freedom was worth the climb. And as far as I know, none of them moved back to Europe. Or wanted to.

It is here where they began to build families, communities and churches. The faith that sustained them on their ocean voyage was honored by the building of so many beautiful churches. Many, still home to their ethnic community. They struggled to survive difficult times, but always made time for prayer and devotion and to give thanks to God.

These strong roots are what anchors my mighty oak of a family tree. I am but a gardener. My job is to water, to add fertilizer (sometimes a little too much) and to make sure the blossoms are enjoyed by one and all. Our tree is rooted in the journey of our ancestors and it's branches reach upward toward the heavens in hopes of one day touching the hand of God. The leaves that grow through their cycle of life, then die and fall, become the mulch that keeps our tree growing through the cold, dark winters. New buds of life grow in the shadow of firm, older branches.

I am but one of a long list of caretakers to this tree of life. And I do not work alone. Our tree does not stand strong and tall just by chance. It is a result of years of cultivation, of weathering many storms, and the nourishment and freedom to grow in the land where it was planted.