Come; look with me inside this drawer
In this box I've often seen,
At the pictures, black and white,
Faces proud, still, serene.
I wish I knew these people,
These strangers in the box...
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among my socks.
I wonder what their lives were like,
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times,
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone had taken time,
To tell who, what, where and when,
These faces of my heritage,
Would come to life again.
Could this become the fate?
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday will pass away.
Make time to save your stories,
Seize opportunity when it knocks,
Or someday you and yours could be,
the strangers in this box!
-Author unkown
This poem touched me when I first read it. If we don't preserve the stories of our lives and photos then will our grandchildren and their children know who we were and what we were about?
I have a few pictures like the one described in the poem. I don't know who is in them really. I don't know what memory that picture was meant to preserve. Memories like pictures fade in time. It is up to us to preserve the memories that still remain and the ones to come so that future generations can see, feel, and enjoy our memories as we did. Help our future generations not to forget about the things that touched our lives, shaped who we were and added to who they are. Give them the chance to laugh, cry, be proud, think, enjoy, and all the other emotions we fill in our lives with us even after we are gone.
Preserve your Heritage at www.untanglefamilyroots.com
