Wind
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I. But when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
Christina Rossetti
My Grandma Magill loved children. Not much bigger than a child, she was five foot tall.
Grandpa used to tell the story about when they lived in town some of the neighborhood children loved to come to visit Grandma. She caught laryngitis once and had to whisper. The children didn't know... they whispered right along with her.
When I was a toddler I remember her sitting me on the table in front of her, and she quoted a whole book of nursery rhymes—without a book as well as songs and she liked the above poem about the wind.
I'm thinking about the wind as today goes into the category of 'season of the wind', and the wind attempts to move our house to a south-western state, thankfully unsuccessfully.
One generation, usually people are remembered one generation after their passing from this life. Yes, even famous people tend to fade into ignominy. Asked recently who Winston Churchill was very few high school teens in the UK could answer correctly.
Yet, our past has a key in our future. We take characteristics from our ancestors either in victory or defeat.
