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'Twas the night before census

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  • Phyllis Ziajka
    Hello listers: I hope nobody will mind if I forward this to the list. I received it from a friend overseas - she d got it from another list - and so hopefully
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 14, 2002
      Hello listers:
      I hope nobody will mind if I forward this to the list.  I received it from a friend overseas - she'd got it from another list - and so hopefully we can all enjoy it.

      > Hi Listers, I received this posting from the Dumfries and Galloway list. > Jean............. > > > > > >It was the first day of census, and all through the land; > >The pollster was ready, a black book in hand. > >He mounted his horse for a long dusty ride; > >His book and some quills were tucked close by his side. > >A long winding ride down a road barely there; > >Toward the smell of fresh bread wafting, up through the air. > >The woman was tired, with lines on her face; > >And wisps of brown hair she tucked back into place. > >She gave him some water, as they sat at the table; > >And she answered his questions -- the best she was able. > >He asked of her children. Yes, she had quite a few; > >The oldest was twenty, the youngest not two. > >She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red; > >His
      sister, she whispered, was napping in bed.
      > >She noted each person who lived there with pride; > >And she felt the faint stirrings of the wee one inside. > >He noted the sex, the color, the age. > >The marks from the quill soon filled up the page. > >At the number of children, she nodded her head; > >And saw her lips quiver for the three that were dead. > >The places of birth she "never forgot"; > >Was it Kansas? or Utah? or Oregon -- or not? > >They came from Scotland, of that she was clear; > >But she wasn't quite sure just how long they'd been here. > >They spoke of employment, of schooling and such; > >They could read some, and write some, though really not much. > >When the questions were answered, his job there was done; > >So he mounted his horse and he rode toward the sun. > >We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear; > >"May God bless you all for another ten years." > >Now picture a time warp -- its' now you and me; > >As we search for the people on our family tree. > >We squint at the census and scroll down so slow; > >As we search for that entry from long, long ago. > >Could they only imagine on that long ago day; > >That the entries they made would effect us this way? > >If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel; > >And the searching that makes them so increasingly real. > >We can hear if we listen the words they impart; > >Through their blood in our veins and their voice in our heart. > > > >Author Unknown > > > > > >
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