heshefamilytree

[heshefamilytree]

Great Grandparents and Sacrifice:

I finally found the graves of my great grandparents in Southern California. I have wanted to find them for many years. My great grandmother contracted Tuberculosis after taking care of her mother, who died from it. My great grandmother was placed in quarantine in a TB quarantine hospital for five years. My Grammie and Uncle Jack were ripped away from their mother and father, and placed in quarantine as well. Grammie went in as a five year old, and came out as a 10 year old and Uncle Jack as a 3 year old and came out when he was 8 years old. The doctor told my great grandfather that he needed to take my great grandmother west to a place that was less humid than Georgia so she could breathe easier. My great grandfather had run away from home at the age of 12 and went to Canada and lied about his age and joined WWI. They needed boys so badly (remember America was not in the War yet). He fought in this war from the age of 12 until it was over and he got out when he was 17 years old. He suffered from “shell shock” (which we call PTSD today). It took them two years driving in a coupe in the 1930s with the rumble seat which Grammie and Uncle Jack sat in with their little heads out in the air like a convertible to cross I-10 to get to the west. They lived in a tent off the road and would stop in towns along the way. Great Grandfather was a gifted pool player and card player and he would play pool and cards and win enough money to take the next leg of the journey until the money run out and then would do it again. This couple loved their lives in California and died quite young in their 50s. They had a good life once they got past these obstacles and enjoyed their family. The view in the cemetery where their stones sit is breathtaking.

#godisgood #genealogist #memories #life #familytree #familyhistory #grandparents #gravestones #graveyard #research #explore #history #cemetery

[heshefamilytree]

July 4th, 2022 Reflections

What a beautiful blessed country we live in. As we enjoy these celebrations of our freedoms I always think of those who came before us and whose blood is spilled on this sacred land for us to enjoy these freedoms. Invariably my 5th great grandfather comes to mind. He was born in 1733 in Virginia. He lived in the upcountry in the Smoky Mountains. During the Revolutionary War, although older, he volunteered to serve at the Battle of Kings Mountain with his two sons, my 4th great grandfather Benjamin, and son Richard. Although the battle was a resounding victory for the Continentalists a small handful of men died. One was Richard Taliaferro, brother of Benjamin and son of John. Now imagine this scene as I share. John was the doctor. He was known as Dr. John Taliaferro. He was working frantically to help the injured when his beloved son Richard was rushed into the wounded area. A soldier runs to Dr. John and quietly informs him his son Richard is wounded. John hurries to his son’s side and reaches him in time to hold him in his arms as he dies. The continentalist lost 28 men that day with 60 men wounded in a 65 minute battle. One minute Benjamin and Richard were running into the fray of the battle with Dr. John their father, remaining behind at the wounded tent and within 65 minutes Richard’s spirit left his body as he sacrificed his self for the freedoms of this great land. The sufferings that his father and brother went through were insurmountable. The day I finally found Dr. John’s gravestone off on a dirt road buried in the very back of a little Baptist cemetery filled my heart with so much compassion and love for him and I was grateful I was his granddaughter. It was fitting that I found his grave on the Fourth of July.

#godisgood #life #genealogist #memories #genealogy #lovelife #love #family history #family #gratitude #grateful #history war #war #Revolution #freedom #freedoms

[heshefamilytree]

“Luke’s Plant”

I love this. The beautiful plant in the back I call “Luke’s plant” in honor of my son. Someone (bless their hearts) gave me this palm species when Lukie passed away years ago. I have nurtured this plant through the years. It was only about 18” tall then and now it is taller than me. It has weathered many “storms of life” and no matter what, it comes back with a beautiful lush vengeance and lives on. I put my favorite rocks and shells in the base of the plant-a treasure trove and special place-not only for these gems, but also in my heart. This lovely palm lives on and reminds me that Luke and Mathew both continue to live on and that one day I WILL see these beloved sons again and hold them in my arms. The pinwheels are for each son and continually breathe the wind of life in the breeze. When I play good music the birds come from all over and join in the singing. This peaceful place is truly a haven wrapped in warmth and love from both sides of the veil.

#godisgood #life #memories #love #sons #lovelife #story #heaven #death #gratitude #grateful #appreciation #plants #gardening #gardenerslife #beauty #pinwheels

[heshefamilytree]

Great Grandmother had given birth to eight sons by 1912 and had just given birth to her first baby girl, Eunice on January 4th, 1912. On January 7th, 1912, Grandmother had contracted Spinal Meningitis Virus and died, just three days after her baby girl was born. This virus was an epidemic and had hit the Glen Rose, Texas region very hard. Many died from this disease during this time period.

Grandpa Bostick (Buran Stovall) was only eighteen months old when his mother Charlotte, died. Great Grandfather Jefferson put Buran in a basket and took him out to the fields with him while he worked. Aunt Ollie and Uncle Howard, Jefferson's sister, was barren and could not have children. Great Grandfather Jefferson gave Aunt Eunice to his sister Ollie to raise. Aunt Ollie and Uncle Howard's farm was next door to Jeffersons. Aunt Eunice spent time with her father and brothers whenever she wanted and knew that Jefferson was her father and what had happened.

Charlotte‘s mother died a few years later from the same illness. Charlotte sister had gone up to take care of their mother, my great great grandmother Sarah, and then several others fell ill in the family which this sister also took care of and then she contracted the disease and unfortunately and sadly, died from the same illness. Her things were in a trunk and sent home with her body to her husband which was about an hour away by horse and wagon. The husband and children were devastated at the loss of their mother, Charlotte’s sister. After the funeral, the husband had his 13-year-old son unpack their mothers belongings from the trunk, in which he also contracted the disease from the germ residue left upon his mother’s clothing and died a few days later.

As I look at this quilt and I ponder all of the history that surrounds it and obviously the love and care each fabric holds that was used in the family in their own clothing and flour sacks, and then stitched with teeny stitches by hand into the quilt, it just makes my heart feel so much love in behalf of this family‘s trials and heart aches and experiences. It is amazing this beautiful quilt made by grandmother’s own precious hands has survived the test of time. My own hands can touch and run over the threads that grandmother so lovingly created, while I ponder her thoughts, life, loves, hopes, and dreams, the tapestry of our lives interwoven together.

#godisgood #life #artwork #genealogist #memories #quilting #quilts #quilt #sewing #love #familyhistory #family #sew #create #story #storytelling #history #grandmother

[heshefamilytree]

“To YOU: Who Always Bring Light to Darkness”

One of my fondest memories are of my dear father (who was a layman Baptist Preacher) sharing the story from the Bible about the Light. He sang the song to me over and over..”This Little Light of Mine,” (I’m gonna let it shine...hide it under a bushel-oh no! I’m gonna let it shine).

Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in Heaven.

And he said unto them, neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but on a candle stick, and giveth light unto all that are in the house.

You are a light to the world, a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. Matthew 5:14-16

The print above reminds me so much of this scripture and this song that daddy used to sing to me and the stories that he used to tell when I sat upon his knee.

Each and everyone of you are brilliant shining stars and children of our loving Heavenly Father.

I would like to thank you all for letting your light so shine and being such a wonderful loving example to me as well as to all those around you.

(Art by @tulippainter)

#godisgood #life #beyond light #light #goodness #shineyourlight #daddy #memories #artwork #good example #bless #blessothers

[heshefamilytree]

I was so excited to paint this painting this year. This is the reason why:

To me, saint Nicolas was a very old soul dating back several thousand years ago who attended Mechior, Caspar, and Balthasar on their journey to visit the Christ child. Nicolas was also a wise man as well, who had suffered much, which was necessary for his heart be humbled enough to recognize the babe, the King of Kings.

As time marched on Nicolas followed the Savior’s path and wept when He was crucified. In the course of trying to come to terms with such a loss and embrace fully the Atonement, Nicolas received an incredible gift of immortality on earth. Just like John the Beloved.

As Nicolas realized his immortality he began to serve people. He served people through the Plague (Black Death) when no one else in the Village could serve because all were sick. He served the orphans. He served the families. Through the years he served all the children of God.

He served so much and with so much love, the kind of love he witnessed the Savior serve when He walked the earth, that by about 400 AD He was pronounced a Saint. Saint Nicolas was born.

Saint Nicolas is an emissary for our Lord and King. He gives to us, we give to each other, and Heavenly Father gave His only begotten son, our sweet Jesus Christ, to all of us-mankind. May we love and serve all year long everyday for the rest of our lives.

Merry Christmas all. May the windows of heaven pour so many blessings upon you and yours that you do not have enough room to receive them.

#godisgood #Art #artist #artwork #artworld #paint #painting #create #holiday #give thanks

[heshefamilytree]

The Meaning of the Bells:

 

I have noticed several of my children keep bells on their doorknobs as I have all my adult life. I have always loved bells-any bells; jingle bells, cow bells, hand bells, playing the bells (which I did in the high school band-xylophone, which incidentally our high school band represented the United States in the International Marching Band Competition in Calgary, Canada at the Stampede and HUGE parade, 1976. Our band took second place for the United States! It was a big deal. We had 110 members in our band. Our Band Leader was amazing and a true gift from Heavenly Father and blessed our lives in many ways. I marched playing the “bells”). I thought that maybe I should share why I love bells so much.

The tinkling sound is such beautiful music to my ears and reminds me of Heaven. I always have bells on the doorknob of my house so they jingle every time I or someone else goes indoors or outdoors. There are always Angels that attend us and although Angels don’t knock ;) *wink*, sometimes when they enter one can hear a tinkle if one has the bells present. (Sometimes one can hear a tinkle of the bell even if bells are not present.) I figure if I keep bells on the doorknob when Angels choose to come through the door (sometimes they come into the home a different way) then I can hear the bells jingle. Somehow, it keeps things that are important, every time I open the door and hear the bells, in the forefront of my mind as I think of Angels, Heavenly Father, and Heaven. Plus, we all know that every time we hear a bell ring an Angel is getting their wings ;)

#godisgood #bells #angels #angelsamongus #door #doors #cowbells #jinglebells #handbells #heaven #thoughts #life #story #storytelling

[heshefamilytree]

Grief: Some days I move a little forward and some days I take a few steps backwards. Today was a backwards day. A hard day. Trying to wrap my head around all that has happened. The trick is separating the earth tragedy and pain with the heavenly light. In my “eye” I see my beautiful cousin dressed in white with that everlasting huge smile of love on her face with an ethereal light surrounding her. It warms my melancholy heart. As I do my yoga routine and feel the pain I thank my God for my body and for this pain and gratitude to be alive. I then “see” myself walking up to my daughter’s porch with two large pumpkins in my arms for my sweet grandbabies, again with a heart full of gratitude to my Heavenly Father for my life. I am so grateful for the gift of the Atonement and the knowledge of life and death that I have while I suffer in silence of the tragic passing of my beautiful loving cousin. I remember when my teenage son passed. I was sitting in the backyard in the little red wagon crying with a breaking heart and thinking, “Oh how how how can I live another 70 years without you?” I find myself thinking these things as I mourn my sweet Cindy and her infectious smile. I know she is so happy to be home and in the arms of a merciful loving Jesus (I just love Him so). She is now in a place she recognizes. She was one of those that is referred to as “An angel who leaves footprints on our hearts.” Grief.

#godisgood #life #grief #angels #angelsamongus #love #mercy #jesuslovesyou #faith in jesus #gratitude #hardthings #miss u #atonement #family

[heshefamilytree]

“ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN; I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO SCOTTIE”

Scottie…I love this dog.

When my teenager had a tragic accident and passed away unexpectedly there were lots of people that came to my home. When everyone left and the house became quiet once again, my little dog would wake me up about 6:20 in the morning to go out. When I opened the back door he would make a beeline through the field like he knew exactly where he was going and had something on his mind.

After about three days of this I wondered where he was going and what was he doing that early in the morning?? On the fourth morning I decided I was going to follow him. I had everything prepared the night before. When Scottie got me up I put my slippers on and grabbed my robe and car keys. I got to the back door where Scottie was already waiting. I open the door and he shot out like an arrow. I ran to the car and jumped in. I drove down to the corner and turned right, hit the next stop sign looking everywhere for him. I could not see Scottie anywhere. I chuckled at myself thinking that I really could follow that fast little dog, what a joke!

It was still very early in the morning so I decided to go to the cemetery and visit my son’s grave before I got the rest of the kids up for school. When I got to my son’s gravestone, lo and behold there was my little dog. I could not believe it! Every morning he would run out the door and through the field to the cemetery and lay there on my son’s grave. I wept, my heart full, amazed that my little dog could comprehend what had happened and knew where my son’s body was.

We spent many early mornings resting at my son’s grave. Scottie went there faithfully every single morning with the same ritual until it snowed.

My little doggie finally grew old and crossed to the other side. Right before he shut his eyes for the last time I told him he would be going to heaven and be with my son where they would continue to share their ice cream cones forever.

#godisgood #dogstories #dog #dogslife #doglovers #dogs #feel special #love #lovestory #teenager #bestdogs #boys #life #outdoors #marvel #cozycore #amazing #story #storyteller #stories

[heshefamilytree]

THE UNSPOKEN STORY:

One day I went to the beach to watch the sunset. As I sat there dolphins began to jump. I was estatic as my heart beat faster. I didn’t think the experience could get any better until this beautiful dog came running up from my left-all by itself, no owner to be seen anywhere. I looked into his eyes and he into mine with a big smile on his face and then plopped down in front of me enjoying the evening, gorgeous sunset, and the dolphins in quiet companionship and comraderie, kindred spirits sharing love in unspoken words and silence.

#godisgood #dogs #sunset #doglovers #beach #beachlife #islandgirl #islandlife #ocean #dolphins #story #companion #companionship #dogstories #dogslife #dog #beauty #outdoors #marvel #naturecore

[heshefamilytree]

“ TENDER MERCIES FROM HEAVEN, A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE”

This Christmas Season has been quite incredible with tender mercies from my Heavenly Father of which I am so grateful. So grateful in fact, that my heart has been overflowing with love this entire season.

My children live all over the nation and as I have thought about each of them with a melancholy heart missing them so, it is natural that my thoughts in turn, focused on my two sons on the other side and how much I miss them. Each of my children are so good, kind and loving to me, that I am constantly in awe at the love they pour out towards me, even though I cannot see them as often as I want to. They make my heart happy.

This past month I have had a myriad of special things happen to me that are highly unusual in my world. They are simple things really. Normally one would not think twice about such things, however as these little blessings continued to happen in an unusual abundance I wondered what was going on and felt very special. They were little things like getting massive discounts on movie seats and treats, receiving an $80 coupon for a coveted item at my favorite shop, a very special letter came in the mail about my daddy who crossed through the veil some 20 years ago (now that was something!), a completely unexpected gift from a general friend who was waiting for me as I walked out of a building, ministering angels (those who wear bodies) from an exquisite art show filled with love of the Savior, to simple kindnesses from others in whose paths crossed mine. Of course, I try to be kind and loving in return – always, however all of these things piled up upon each other, continuing to happen to me as I muddled through each day with a prayer deep in my heart and love and kindness for my sweet Jesus on my mind.

Things culminated as I was at the JSMB building writing (working) listening to the choirs that came from all over the valley to perform and sing Christmas Carols in the beautiful one-hundred-and-eight-year-old ornate lobby while sitting on the velvet settee with my work spread out all over the marble table. I saw a sweet elderly sister missionary cross the lobby floor after speaking with someone. She looked so beautiful as I watched her walk toward the elevator. She was in a lovely white ankle flowing skirt and blouse with the most gorgeous multicolored crocheted vest worn over the blouse. The yarn loops were loose so the white beneath could be seen. The lavenders, light greens, soft blues and white were stunning. I remember smiling as I saw how beautiful she looked and then she was gone. I continued to write and work on my Irish case. I decided I was going to quit at 4:30 and reward myself with a spiritual uplift of watching “Mr. Kruger’s Christmas” in the gorgeous large theater room with the plush seats. I felt that would be a rewarding way to end the workday.

I walked upstairs and headed down the hall to the theater with a very loving full heart and lo and behold, the missionary that greeted me was the sweet lady in the colorful vest and lovely flowing white skirt! I was quite surprised at this after seeing her downstairs a little earlier. Up close, I could see a colorful owl pendant that was about 2 inches in length in the same colors as her vest, pinned in the center of the vest to hold it closed. It was beautiful! I spoke up and told her how lovely her outfit was and especially the vest with the owl pendant to top it off. She thanked me and told me her daughter in Alaska crocheted the vest for her and she had received so many compliments on the vest and owl today, so many so that she was really surprised. I responded that I could understand why and her daughter must love her very much. I proceeded to tell her how special owls were to me.

You see, after my second son Luke had had a tragic accident at the dairy and had crossed through the veil to Heaven, I received little messages of his safety and love. In fact, it was made known to me that both my sons were watched over, cared for, and very very fine and happy-after all, it was Heaven! The cemetery was one block from my house. For many many nights, I had trouble sleeping. I would wake about 2 AM, and remain awake for several hours. In the quiet of the night, I could hear a hoot owl calling. The night was so still and calm and peace permeated the air rich with consoling tranquility. I fell in love with the wise old owl immediately. I had to find him, to see him, so I could thank him for this sweet music in the middle of the night when I was alone with my grief. I was on a quest! Day after day, when I had a moment alone, I went for walks in the cemetery trying to spot the owl. One day, just a jaunt up from my son‘s grave was a row of very old pioneer graves, about four or five tall narrow stones with a type of pineapple shaped top, all in a row. These stones had been there for about a hundred-and-twenty-five years. As I walked towards the boys’ graves passing the old stalwart tall stones with the pineapple tops, there was the hoot owl! He was perched on the second stone watching ME. I stopped dead in my tracks. I was alone in the cemetery-not another person in sight. He had obviously seen me long before I saw him. He was beautiful, white feathers speckled with browns of varying shades. I quietly begin talking to the wise old owl. I thanked him for watching over my boys and staying up all night to protect these children of mine. He kept looking at me, then blinking those big black eyes of his, looked to the right towards Luke’s grave and back at me. I told him how consoling his hoot-call was in the night, music to my ears, and I felt at peace with the turn of events. I knew this beautiful creature understood me and was a messenger for my boys, Luke and Matthew, telling me not to worry that all is well and as it should be. This wise old owl blessed my heart.

I shared this story with my new friend and we both shed a few tears. I went to find my seat in the auditorium and was waiting for the Christmas film to start when I saw the sweet lady come my way. I was surprised that she was coming straight to me. When she reached me, she promptly stated with a smile on her face, “Open your hands.“

I could see her hands closed tightly. I thought she was smuggling me chocolate, haha! When I opened my hands she dropped her beautiful colorful owl pendant into my hands. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes as I shook my head and firmly remarked, “I cannot possibly accept this pendant from you. Your daughter in Alaska made this vest for you and this pendant is perfect! It is special to you! Everyone loves it and it goes with your lovely outfit!“

She instantly responded, “I was prompted to give this to you and you will take it.“

At that moment I knew my two sons, Luke and Matthew, were right there and telling me this gift of the owl and all the tender mercies (which I thought at first was simply good luck since I was an Irish lass) were from them and they were trying to convey they received permission from our great Lord and Savior to come and visit me (yes, ‘lil ‘ole ME!) this season and give this humble little mother a Christmas gift of love from them. (Which in turn, I realized just how much Heavenly Father and sweet Jesus love me to give me this gift of my sons near me.)

Many people have served as ministering angels in their behalf over the past few weeks, but it took this sweet senior missionary to go the extra mile communicating with me and acting on her prompting, for me to realize what was going on. I will always be beholden to her for listening to my sons and being close enough to the Holy Spirit to hear and act. She is a wonderful example to me.

Since this event last week, tender mercies have continued to happen to me, and my heart is still filled to the brim with such love that it cannot be contained and spills over. I just pull into myself and feel the love of my sons, my Lord, my children who graciously remain on this side of the veil, grateful for all of my blessings.

It is so easy during the Holidays to feel sad and lonely, but this season I feel so much love and so blessed, so so grateful for these tender mercies from Heaven. I watch daily for opportunities to pass this love along in some small way and give to another in an effort to show my gratitude and love to my Heavenly Father and sweet baby Jesus. For all of these things I am so grateful.

Love, one humble mother.

#godisgood #christmas #mercy #heaven #creatures #owl #owls #cemetery #miracle #christmasmiracle #write #feel special #beauty #hearts #love #children #family #ministering #angels #angelsamongus

[heshefamilytree]

“I CAN DO HARD THINGS!”

I laid out the quilt I've been working on all these years to get an idea what it looks like. I will have a solid cream color of little off-white strips in between each row and a paisley print on the back to finish it off.

To be truthful, when I first saw this pattern after I committed myself to make the quilt...I thought, “What the heck???! I can't do this!”

When they said, “Now cut out 150 triangles of this color and another 150 triangles of this fabric and...and...”

I thought, “Whaaattt???!”

Both my mother and sister are avid quilters. My mom stood by me for quite awhile watching lending support while I measured and cut and went from there.

It was way way too much and overwhelming. My sister showed me how to break the project down into bite-size pieces to get started and I cannot believe how the squares quickly came together! It was pretty amazing to see the pieces unfold.

I thought back on the many antique quilts I possess and have seen and how many beautiful hands have touched the fabric and yes, hand sewn each block. How many of these great ladies, my grandmothers, mother, sister, aunties, daughters, granddaughters felt overwhelmed thinking, “I can’t do this?!”

Imagine all the time taken, needle pricks, unpicking, children running underneath the frames of unfinished work giggling and chasing each other, while those around shared deep thoughts, gained wisdom, and unfinished stories.

Yet, it was done, a project completed, a lovely work of art created to lend warmth by loving hands on a cold winter’s night-what we know simply as, “a quilt,” lasting for generations. And don’t forget the forethought of adding the odd square so that the evil spirits have an escape route therefore leaving a blanket of love to bless those it covers and protects during a lengthy slumber.

Lesson learned: “I CAN do this!”

Like those before me. I can start and finish an intricate project, a work of art, to keep me and others warm and bless lives for generations and inspiring those that come after me with my love.

I CAN DO HARD THINGS!

#godisgood #quilt #genealogy #history #quilter #antiques #hardthings #beauty #fun #family #hands #familyhistory #oldwivestales #tradition #folklore #sewing #sew #handmade #quilts #you can accomplish anything #accomplishanything #challenge #projects

[heshefamilytree]

“INDIVIDUAL WEEDS, DOES GOD KNOW ME INDIVIDUALLY ?”

One day I was passing a field of weeds after a fresh snow and these weeds were the kind with a ball on top of each stick. Each balled stick was standing tall and strong in the field.

When I arrived home I hollered at the kids to hurry and bundle up as I had something really profound to share with them. They pulled on their coats and jumped in the car and we drove to the field of balled-headed-snow-covered-weeds and stopped.

I told the children to, “Look at that! Can you see each individual weed? The snow has made it so each one shows up individually.”

Each child said, “Yes, that’s so cool I can see it!”

I replied, “That’s really great! I’m glad you can tell. I want you to remember that is how Heavenly Father sees YOU! He knows each and every one of you so individually and loves you so. Don’t you ever doubt that! With a whole heart, always put your faith and trust in that God who loves YOU!♥️”

#godisgood #weeds #naturelovers #nature #love #lessons #teachingmoments #children #beauty #snowfall #objectlesson #inspirational blog #inspiration #motivational #teaching #storyteller #story #profound #caring #individual

[heshefamilytree]

“GLASS BLOWING”

Recently, I had the opportunity to blow my own glass. I had wanted to do this for many years. It was such a unique creative thing to do. Totally spoke my language.

As I sat on a bleacher watching I saw three hot furnaces in front of me burning bright with fire. They looked like the ovens that pizza are cooked in in a restaurant, arches included. To the right was a table filled with different kinds of very sharp small shards of glass. The shards were brilliant in color.

Pretty soon it was my turn. I went to the 2400 degree fire oven and put my long pole in the fire and rolled it around. (Remember your kitchen oven reaches 500 degrees.) I pulled my pole out with a fireball on the end of it-brilliant orange, very hot, and smooth like glass.

I carefully carried the pole to the table and rolled the fireball in cobalt blue shards, purple shards, a touch of yellow and swirl of white and green so as to make turquoise when it melted-like the sea. All the shards stuck to the fireball like a magnet and poked out sharp, like porcupine quills.

I rolled and rolled the pole round and round in my hands like the pole was on a spit, watching the sharp shards melt in the fire ball.

I put the pole back into the fire pit at 2400 degrees again turning the pole the entire time, the colors became smooth with the fireball till you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended. (This procedure of applying shards and melding in the fire pit was repeated several times.)

As I watched this process I thought of Heavenly Father and how He refines us as we walk through the Refiner’s Fire throughout our life. Our choices and experiences can get-oh, so very hot, yet with hearts turned towards our Lord He slowly melts our sharp shards, battling our will versus Father’s will, until our souls and Father’s will become one. A soul that melts into a refined obedient soul, one who wants to follow our Lord and be an emissary of God wanting to choose the right and be good forever; so individual, yet happening individually with each of us-Heavenly Father’s children throughout time.

In the end, after much heat, and fire, a beautiful refined piece of glass was created. A treasure never to be forgotten, just like in the end of our journey a beautiful refined child of God moves to his next estate, refined with rough edges smoothed out, at one with God.

The experience was life changing-a poingnant change of heart.

#refinersfire #fire #glassblowing #art #creative #god #change #changingheart #hearts #thoughts #godisgood #analogy #creativity #passion #reflection #experiences #story #experience #beauty #life #journey #growth

[heshefamilytree]

REMNANTS OF BARNEY’S STORY

 I remember sitting at my father-in-law's knee and asking him questions about his childhood. One cold afternoon, with the fire going, Barney began to painstakingly share with me that fateful day the German Nazi Soldiers came to his home to speak with his parents, (it was the only time I was able to get him to talk about his childhood). Eva (Barney's mother) was at home. She was at the door conversing with the Soldiers when they authoritatively ordered her to give up her two oldest boys for Hitler's Youth Army. She refused shaking her head no, no, no. The boys were holding tight to their mother's skirt as the Soldiers roughly yanked them off her with the boys and Eva screaming, Eva reaching for the boys and the boys for their mother, shouting and crying, "No, no. no!" The last thing the Soldier's yelled back at Eva in a gruff voice as they quickly dragged Barney (twelve years old) and Kurt (ten years old) away was, “Do not follow and try to find them-you are not allowed to see your sons!”

It wasn’t long before Eva did just that! She was not about to let her boys go. She was a good mother. Eva and Jonny lived in Hamburg as did their parents and ancestors before them for several thousand years (proved after much research). Eva found they were holding the boys in a Youth Camp, with conditions not much better than a Concentration Camp, 378 miles south in Nuremburg. (I am not certain how she traveled to Nuremburg, but in 1939/1940 I imagine it was by train and foot.) I’m sure the site before her broke her heart when she found the camp.

A chain-link fence stood dauntingly between Eva and the yard as she searched and searched to spot her sons, trying desperately to be inconspicuous. She finally saw Barney (Bernhard)! When the coast was clear, she hollered for him, still trying to be careful and not get caught, as she did not want to cause undue pain and hardship on the boys. Barney saw his beloved mother and grabbed his little brother’s hand and the boys ran to the fence reaching through the chain-link to touch their mother, all weeping. Eva sadly discovered her boys were starving. She brought bread with her in her bag. She broke it up and handed the pieces through the fence to feed her babies. She did this everyday they were incarcerated in the camp.

I have often marveled at Eva and her strength to withstand and witness this hardship happen to her babies. My heart goes out to her and her sons.

Well, the story does not end here. After the war, Barney came to America. He worked so hard laying cinder block to earn enough money to sponsor and personally bring every single member of his family to America, even going back to Germany, South America, and everywhere else he had to physically go to find his siblings and gather the family up one by one. He brought both of his parents, all his brothers and one sister as the other one had sadly passed away already at nineteen years old. What I didn’t know is the rest of the story…

One day, through Facebook, an Auntie of a young man that was friends with my daughter, saw our last name and reached out through messaging to learn if we were related to a man named Barney with the same last name. My daughter hollered at me to come and take a look, this message was in my “wheelhouse.”  

I wrote back and said, “Yes, Barney is my father-in-law.”

She promptly replied and relayed the following:

“Our whole family will forever be eternally grateful to Uncle Barney for what he did for us. After the War he went to America and worked really hard to earn enough money to bring every member of our family to America. My father is the brother to his mother, Eva. Without Barney, we would not have been able to come.”

Her nephew filled in the rest of the details. He said, “My grandmother, Eva’s sister-in-law, was a gifted pianist (she has passed on to heaven). She taught my cousin how to play the piano. He too was born with the gift. You may know his work, John Schmidt (he plays with the Piano Guys now). If it wasn’t for Uncle Barney, we wouldn’t have the opportunities we have found in America.” This young man reiterated the love and gratitude for my father-in-law. I was so touched.

On the weekend, I promptly drove back up to the mountains where Barney lived in his cabin. I asked, “Dad? Do you have any relatives in the family that were a gifted pianist?”

Dad’s eyes lit up as he animatedly related in his thick German accent, “Oh yes, my Auntie! She was married to my Uncle, and a gifted pianist, played like an angel. I have never heard anyone play the piano like her. It always touched me (while pointing at his heart) when I heard her play. I have never in my life heard anyone play like that since she died.”

He omitted the part about sponsoring all them to America. I softly asked, “Dad? Did you bring all these people to America?”

He humbly replied, “Yes.” I got up and with tears streaming down my face, just hugged and hugged him. He was crying too and said simply that it was what he needed to do.

I love that sweet generous humble man. The war scarred him for life. He tried his best to live simply and not take life for granted. He was a simple man that loved deeply. My heart and life has been touched and forever changed for having the privilege to know him.

One important lesson here is to not judge those around us. People make mistakes and may be what we consider a little “backwards” or imperfect or not like us, but there is always so much more to the story than meets the eye and that folks simply do not share.

Finally, to come full circle, I once had the opportunity right before all of these details were discovered, to listen to John Schmidt play a Christmas concert at our church. He played the song “Waterfall” which he dedicated to his sweet grandmother. He went on to explain that he learned how to play the piano at her knee. He was able to learn enough from her and was blessed with the gift that after she died he was able to keep playing and his music ability blossomed which he felt she helped with from the other side.

Imagine my amazement when I learned the rest of the story!

#godisgood #history #familyhistory #family #war #love

#genealogist #genealogy #godisgood #family #love #lovestory #families #history war #war #historical #history #ancestor #memories #interview #gratitude #gift #music #piano #pianist #writer #blogger #blog #record #bravery #courage #storyteller #story #youth #strength #pianoguys

[heshefamilytree]

“HER VERY OWN 007; A SPY IN THE FAMILY”

I was helping a client recently with her research when, through the grapevine, we learned that one of her ancestors was in the Revolutionary War. Of course, there are many avid hunters with Revolutionary War Patriots. My client was excited to add another soldier to her collection. I told her the library just happened to have all the war files in the repository and asked if she’d like to get her grandfathers. Her eyes danced with excitement and promptly responded, “Yes.”

In her excitement, she started talking and began to share the William Duduit story.

He was a French Huguenot that immigrated to America in 1789–Wait a minute! I immediately stopped her and asked what was wrong with this picture. She stopped dead in her tracks and thought hard, her mind reeling. Finally, her big blue eyes opened wide and she exclaimed, “He can’t be a Revolutionary War Soldier-he immigrated in 1789!!!!”

I replied, “Exactly, the war was over by then.”

We discussed further what was going on in the French theatrical backdrop with everyone losing theirs heads in the French Revolution prefacing the Napoleonic Wars on the horizon with all the chaos in the European front.

Plus the fact, William Duduit was a Huguenot, indicating he was Protestant-not very popular since the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in the late 1600s. Why would the grapevine possibly make such an error stating William Duduit fought in the Revolution?

We proceeded to search for William Duduit’s war Documents. Something must exist for the coconut wireless to come up with the idea to pass along.

Sure enough, we found a war file for Bounty Land for one William Duduit, married to someone completely other than the client’s grandmother. Is this even the correct man and grandfather?

Well, this William Duduit lived in the Ohio Territory. When the client’s French grandfather immigrated to America in 1789 he also moved to that region. The years discussed in the war file were 1792-1795, the same time the client’s grandfather was there…we continued reading each page.

Come to find out, this WAS her French grandfather. Apparently his first wife (and grandmother of the client) had passed away and remarried a second time to a French woman named Zier Lacroix.

When William Duduit arrived in America on the western horizon, the Canadian French were stirring up the northern Indian tribes-again (descendants of the old Iroquois Confederacy, albeit new generations) against the English in America, specifically in the Northwest Territory region (which encompassed Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan, Illinois, Minnesota, and Wisconsin which were not admitted into the Union yet as states) and an Indian War broke out from 1790-1795, called the Indian War (keep in mind there were other nick names used in reference to the war as well. Also, the original French and Indian War was in the 1750s).

The American Government learned that William Duduit was a French Immigrant and was on America’s side and promptly enlisted him as a Spy!

One can imagine the men sitting at a table in the corner, in a dark tavern lit by candlelight, with the new friends speaking in hushed voices to William Duduit needing desperately what he had, a French tongue, trying to encourage him to join their cause. And finally, he nodded, “Yes.”

He served for three years in this capacity. Think about it, the enemy would never know that he was on the American side instead of the French Canadian as his French was superlative.

William Duduit immigrated to America to escape the devastation of the French Revolution and Protestant persecution and walked right into the Indian War and was recruited immediately to fight on America’s side as a French Spy.

This would fall under the old saying, “Right place, right time.” (Or was it?)

Apparently things were really rough on the wild frontier and out of control.

“The necessity of having these Spies is perfectly evident from the fact that the Indians made numerous and frequent depredations upon the neighborhood burning property stealing property and in some instances committing murder itself so that the neighborhood were compelled to have these Guardians and Forewarner’s or be despoiled of their all and then slaughtered with the Tomahawk by the Savages…”

Zier Lacroix was about twenty years younger than William and lived into the 1850s or so. She did apply for Bounty Land for her husband’s service as a spy and was awarded.

Important points learned:

1. Grandfather did not fight in Revolution, but served in the military after the war. (Does not count for DAR admittance, although just as important.) 2. Grandmother died early. 3. Grandfather married a younger woman second. 4. Grandfather served as a French Spy for America for three years and lived through the ordeal. 5. Grandfather was Protestant 6. Grandfather’s young second wife outlived him a long time, therefore serving as a bridge to preserve the history and gain insight of William. 7. Grandfather inadvertently provided for her with his military service as a spy with an award of Bounty Land in Ohio for said service (which had not commenced while he lived).

Facts gained from Indian War 1790-1795, Bounty Land Records, American Government.

#godisgood #history #spy #historical #ancestors #intrigue #family #familytree #research #Bounty #love #life #explore #adventure #genealogy #amazing #story #storytelling

[heshefamilytree]

A MOTHER’S LOVE:

William Penn, Worrying about his father in battle wrote, “I never knew what a father was till I had wisdom enough to prize him…I pray God…that you come home secure.”

This could easily be said abt mothers.

My heart is full as my dear sweet mother rests in the twilight of her life. The game, “one step forward, two steps back” has never rang true more as I watch my sweet mother try to continue on her full-of-life path only to be kicked back harshly every few months with the severe reminder, “You are on borrowed time.”

Everyone comes to a point when all around them know the time is quick approaching to take that next step and cross through the veil. It is the cycle of life. Even still, I am not ready to let go. How can I possibly go on without her?

I embrace each moment. I am blessed that she’s had eighty long years, 3/4’s of which have graced me with her presence. May I get a few more.

Remember all the unending hours of sacrifice to sew the perfect prom dress for me, taking me to church, watching movies, making tacos and chocolate cake, playing cards, having lunch, encouraging me, loving me, surprise parties-my biggest fan.

I remember one point praying about her-for her, when I was a young mother and the Lord said, “Your mama loves you so much, love her, she was the best mother she knew how to be.” What a huge lesson. Gratitude abounds.

We are all different and yet love is a universal language and breaks through all barriers. She taught me that. Never give up. She taught me that. Be happy. She taught me that.

I’m am so grateful to her for giving me life, teaching me good, walking this path with me, for being my friend-my mother. She is everything beautiful. She reminds me of fresh spring flowers.

My ears ring with her laughter and love, I can see her eyes twinkle with joy and love of God and our Savior Jesus. In fact, I learned to love our Lord from her. She taught me, He loves me. I have a deep heart-wrenching love for Him because she awakened that inside me. How could I not love her?!

“In fact dear Mother, all flowers remind me of you.” A slow smile grows across my face and my heart fills with joy as I think of you and in turn embrace being a mother with a depth of love my own children could never possibly fathom, until they in turn become mothers too.

#godisgood #mother #motherslove #mothersday #heaven #gratitude #grateful #love #family #god #giveback #give #teaching #impresión #hero #champion #beautiful #lovely