‘Twas the night before the holiday
and in my abode
No one was sleeping
That’s the genealogist’s road.
I should be wrapping packages,
I know I’ve been told
But this ancestor died
At 115 years old,
While it’s possible longevity
runs in our genes
I doubt this is right
So you know what that means.
The packages will wait
I can wrap in the morn
You see I must verify
When this grandaunt was born.
As I searched and I searched
My frustration grew
I tossed up my hands,
“That’s it, I’m through.”
Just as I was about
To stop and to quit
A spirit appeared
To stop a hissy fit.
She reminded me at once
Of the holidays past
The joy of our families
Making memories that last.
Their joys and their sorrows
Their hopes and their dreams
Shone down around me
Like a million moon beams.
All of their stories
so big or so small
came together to become
the stories of us all.
So I turned back to my task
Remembering now
It’s the who, when, and where
The why and the how.
I will solve this mystery
And deck the halls
Because preserving their stories
Is the best gift of all.
Wishing you and your family a joyful and memorable holiday season from the National Genealogical Society.
