The Beginning of A New Year - Personal Wisdom I Have Gained and Want to Share

This is my first writing of the year 2012, and I guess there is much to talk about, although this will be informal.  

The past 18 months, from roughly June 2010, have been challenging -  we have faced financial challenges, had to redefine where I am spiritually, and we ended up with a new place to live, a new car, and a new job.    Although some valuable education has been gained from living the past year, I personally am glad it is over though - this is a time of new beginnings for our household, and that being said, it is up to us (in conjunction with God's sovereign will, of course) to make this year a year that we can look back on as one of our best.   I say this not only for myself, but for the benefit of all who read this, as it is something we all must reassess individually and take positive steps to move forward.

Since September, we have moved back to Lakeland, where I originally graduated from college, and I have, as of the first of this year, entered a new job that basically opens up a whole new area of work for me.   At the time I am writing this, I am still in some very extensive training for it, and it is both intense and interesting at the same time as it is also inspiring me by providing new material for research that many of you will be seeing both in these articles as well as on my theological webpage.   God has created all of us with minds, and we continue to use them throughout our lives, as the learning process only ends when our heart stops in natural death.   Thing is, we are not to use this knowledge as just a storehouse of parroting facts back to people on demand, but rather it is to be used to apply to our lives and to make them either better or more efficient.  Everything we do - formal schooling, work, what we read, watch and hear, etc. - contributes to that reservoir.  I guess the resolution we all have is how to effectively channel what we have accrued in our intellectual reservoir in order to enhance our individual qualities of life.   God has given us that mandate to ensure we are proper stewards of the things he gives us, and those things are not all material - much of it is spiritual and intellectual too. 

I chose this year to resolve not to make any New Year's resolutions for a reason - resolutions often set a bar too high for us to reach, and that is why, as our priest noted in his homily at Mass a couple of weeks ago, that by March all those people on the bike trail that started out so enthusiastically in January disappear by March.  And, it is why the few pounds you resolve to lose end up being a few pounds heavier by Easter - you do see where that is going, right?   Mistakes can be stepping-stones as well as stumbling-blocks, and although you may trip over them at first, eventually you pick up your feet and climb the block.   A common mistake I have made over the years, tying this all back together, is setting things too high and out of reach, thus ending badly in frustration.   So, I personally have done the Biblical thing, so to speak, and have refrained from making oaths I don't have the capacity to fill.  

That being said, does this mean I don't have goals and objectives?  Not at all - Lord knows I have a lot of those, perhaps too many!   What it does mean, however, is that I approach those ideas realistically and try to make them happen within a reasonable means of attainment.   It is a lesson that I very much have had to learn the hard way, and after getting my knees scraped so many times, I realize this is the way to do things that makes more sense.  

I guess now I need to take time to talk personally about some things though.   The several years -  eight in Largo, 5 in St. Pete, meaning 13 total - we spent in Pinellas County, FL, were a sort of exile for us.   However, they were also a time I began to look within myself, and really understand what my own story is all about.  And, I had the inspiration to write it all down, both as an unpublished manuscript as well as a regular and consistent amount of journal-keeping, and that is something I cannot stress enough for you to do.   Your story is something God has given you - it is your testimony, your legacy, and your school of life experience - so write it down and NEVER underestimate its value.  Who knows - your story could inspire and help someone else someday.   These blogs grew out of that, as a matter of fact, and I have been able to organize and formulate my collective life story and worldview into an easily-digested form to share with many of you, although I sincerely hope that it doesn't give you indigestion at times either!   I find I communicate more effectively in writing than I do in speaking, and doing this is a great venue that helps me as well.   And, as I do, I learn a thing or two about myself as well.   In the past two years, I have developed three websites and write as many as 70 articles annually now, which I also print out and have bound in books at home too.   They encompass all areas of my interests, my faith, and my worldview, as well as my personal story as I have lived it and to the best of my ability to recall things from many years past.   I hope to continue this for many years to come. 

An important part of that story is understanding your past, even your roots that presage you personally.  Genealogy has been a big interest of mine since high school, but in the past 10 years, and thanks to the new technologies available, I have been able to take this a long way.   Learning about your ancestors is an important way of understanding your own worldview, because whether indirectly or directly, some of the thinking of your ancestors has come down to you - simply, you inherit more from your forebears a lot of times other than just DNA!  As I particularly have researched my paternal grandmother's family, who have a family tree going back almost 2000 years being they are of French Huguenot heritage and are tied into both European nobility and Sephardic Jewry, I found out about something called Nobless Oblige.  What that is essentially entails a sort of "warrior's code" that goes back to the Visigoths, Lombards, and others who are in my bloodline, and essentially what it says is this - with noble bearing comes noble responsibility.    In today's society, where many people are so stuck on themselves and on other crazy notions shaping much of the modern world, this is almost a foreign concept because it involves three things:

1.  Be true to your word
2.  If you claim to be something, act accordingly
3.  Manners, chivalry, and etiquette

Many people have as their role models today many lying politicians and musicians and movie stars who present themselves as one thing in the public light, but live radically different in private.   It is deceptive, and it harms people - take the modeling industry as a good example.   That, along with an increasing selfishness (an "every man for themselves," evolutionary survival-of-the-fittest mentality) has diminished us as a nation and as a society in general.  It has even gotten into Christian churches now, where anything goes as long as the numbers are good, etc.   However, it is fake, and it rings hollow.  I have a strong conviction within me I could not explain for years that basically dictated me a desire to be real and who I am, but at the same time emphasizing what is best about who I am.   Later, when a couple of relatives who researched the family histories made me aware of the concept of Nobless Oblige, I now understand where that came from.   That, of course, doesn't mean you deny your shortcomings - if you are confronted with those, you are honest about them, but you don't emphasize them constantly.  Added to that my Appalachian upbringing - things such as "sense of place," "making do," and other things, as well as a strong identity with the misunderstood and persecuted being I have shared their experience to a certain degree (hence, my strong connections to Assyrian Christians and Gypsies) - and the general "live-exceeds-talk" faith of my Swiss/German Anabaptist roots, it shaped me as a person and bears much influence on my worldview.   Now that I understand that, I appreciate it more too.  And, most of that was discovered over the past 10 years or so as I began to recollect and write down my own story, as well as tracing my personal genealogy - the two are inseparable.  And, this has had its share of conflict too - many who don't share my upbringing and roots don't really get where I come from, and I have made enemies of some, but that is how it goes.  After all, it is unrealistic to think everyone is going to like you and throw themselves at your feet in adoration (I thank those of you who want to do that though - just kidding!); personality conflicts are a part of our fallen human nature, and are going to happen whether we want them to or not.  But, even those who conflict with you can respect you, and you them, as long as you are real with who you are and they reciprocate.  And, those who conflict like that can even end up being valued friends in some cases - conflicting worldviews don't mean you have to be enemies!   And, conflict in personality doesn't mean misunderstanding or lack of appreciation - you can disagree with someone and still understand where they come from, thus appreciating the fact better.   Of course, in some cases that also means there may be a few headbutts along the way, but in time they work themselves out too.  Bottom line, not everyone who is your friend has to be your "yes-man" as well.   Your life would be a lot more boring if that were the case.  

In these ramblings, I guess I could sum up what I am saying in two good points:

1.  Get to know yourself better, your roots, and recount your story.
2.  Don't view those who may give you personality conflicts as necessarily your enemies - on the contrary, they may become your most trusted friends!

That being said, I look forward to a good year ahead, and hope that I learn a lot more about myself in the process, as we who profess to be Christians are on a pilgrimage of faith called life, trekking to the heavenly Zion we all have set as a destination once we profess Jesus Christ as our Savior and become baptized into His Church.  And indeed, that is what our faith is - a pilgrimage.   As I continue the pilgrim trail this coming year, I hope the journey is an enjoyable one.  And, I wish the same for each of you. See you next time!

A Little Family History Part II - My Father's Family

Now that I have dealt with Mom's family, it is time I talk a little about Dad's side.   Unlike Mom's, who were German Anabaptist natives of West Virginia, Dad's family had roots in south-central Alabama, namely the two counties of Butler and Crenshaw.  And, their ethnic background was a little unique as well, being a combination of French Huguenot, English, Creek Indian, and Sephardic Converso Jewish, among other things.  The interesting thing about that, however, is that on both sides - not to mention from the same source - Dad's family was descended as well from royalty, as you will see later on.   Therefore, let us get started.

My dad, Joseph Wayne Thrower (called "Wayne" by most of the rest of the family and his close friends) was actually born in Jacksonville, FL, to my grandparents Melvin Thrower and Ann Lee Compton Thrower on April 15, 1948.   He was the youngest of their three children, with an older brother who died in infancy being born in AL, and his older sister, my late aunt Annette Thrower Dotson (1940-2004) being his siblings.   When my grandparents later separated, Dad ended up being raised in the nearby town of Brunswick, GA, by my grandfather who had moved there in the early 1950's.   Later, when he got through school and went off to the military, he would meet my mother in Okinawa, and married her there in June of 1968.   Mom and Dad also eventually separated sometime around 1974, and although Mom never remarried, Dad remarried three times - first to a woman named Lena Hahn, to whom he was only married briefly, then to Deborah Traylor, to whom he was married from 1977-1985, and currently he is married to the former Claudia Simmons since 1991.  Although at this point in time, Dad and I don't have the best relationship, nonetheless he is still alive and lives peacefully outside the town of Nahunta, GA.

My father, Joseph Wayne Thrower, back during his Army days.

Dad's father's family, the Throwers, are the ones I wish to talk about first.  My grandfather's name was Melvin Thrower, and he was born on January 28, 1922 in the town of Greenville, AL. He was the second oldest son of Henry and Carrie Parker Thrower, my great-grandparents.   Ironically, this is the same town where Hank Williams Sr, the country music legend, was also born.   Grandad later married a girl he grew up around by the name of Ann Lee Compton, who was my grandmother, and after a tour in the Navy in WWII, he eventually settled in Jacksonville, FL, after living for a short time in Pensacola with the rest of the family - to this day, a lot of my Thrower relatives still live in and around Pensacola, as it served a similar purpose for a lot of poor Alabama folks that Baltimore served to many West Virginians at around the same time - Pensacola was where the jobs were, and if you wanted to make a little cash and get ahead, it was the place to go.  Another interesting twist to this story is that my grandfather's older brother, my Uncle Cecil Thrower, married my grandmother's older sister, Aunt Nancy Lou Compton.  So, we also as a result have a lot of double cousins in our family on that side.

My grandfather, Melvin Thrower (1922-1980)

After separating from my grandmother sometime in the early 1950's, Grandad remarried twice, first to a lady named Louise that I personally know little about, and then later on to Mary Lou Goodbread, originally from Darien, GA.   "Granny Mary," as I called her, was a sweet lady too, and although she had no natural grandchildren of her own, she readily adopted my cousins and I as her own, and she was always good to us.  Also, despite Grandad and Granny being separated, they always remained close and got along famously for many years.   Grandad unfortunately succumbed to terminal cancer in 1980, and he was the first of my grandparents I lost.  As I remember him though, he was always a gentleman, although also possessing the trigger temper characteristic of us Thrower men, and had a great sense of humor.  My only regret was that I didn't get to know him better when I was younger, but the time I was able to spend with him during the year 1979 before he passed on was really a special memory. 

Grandad's parents were Henry B. and Carrie Parker Thrower, both of whom were born in Crenshaw County, AL.   My great-grandfather, whom many of us called Papa Henry, was born I believe on February 22, 1899 (there is some difference in the dates here, as some sources also have 1898 as well), and he lived up until May 6, 1985.   I had the privelege of getting to see him a few times when I was little, and he was a rather energetic man for his age with a strong will and determination that belied his rather thin frame.   He always sort of reminded me of George Burns when I saw him as a kid, and I remember telling him so when I was about 9, and he got the biggest kick out of that.   I don't remember much about my great-grandmother, whom we all called Mama Goose, because she passed away when I was very young.   However, the stories I heard about her were that she was a quiet lady when she wanted to be, but if pushed the wrong direction, she could be a pretty straight shooter!  Like Papa Henry, she was also born in Crenshaw County, and eventually both of them moved to Pensacola some years later.  She and Papa Henry had I believe 6 kids together, and today their two youngest - my uncle Bob Thrower and my aunt Dorothy Pitts - are the two survivors left.  Mama Goose's family has been a little hard to track down, although I do know her parents were Daniel Parker and Lucy White, and it is rumored that either she or one of her parents was a full-blood Creek Indian that grew up on the reservation somewhere in south Alabama.  I am still trying to verify a lot of that, as there is a lot of family legend to separate from the facts, but hopefully as I continue my family tree research I can find out much more on that too.  

My great-grandparents, Henry B. Thrower (1899-1985) and Carrie Parker Thrower (1901-1974)

Papa Henry's parents were also of course from south Alabama as well, although the Throwers originally came into the area from Virginia, then through Gastonia, NC, through central GA, and finally into Coffee and Pike Counties, AL, before my particular ancestors settled in what is now Crenshaw County.   My great-great grandfather, Jesse T. Thrower, was born July 11, 1866 in Alabama and died on April 17, 1946, a couple of years before Dad was born.   His father was a Benjamin Thrower, whose ancestry ultimately goes back to the early 1700's to a Thomas Thrower who actually landed near Jamestown in Virginia.   The Thrower line took some work to trace, but its origins go all the way back to England, where more than likely they were French emigres, being the Thrower name is of French origin and has connections to the silkweaving trade.   Detailed information on our branch of the family goes back as far as Benjamin Thrower, my great-great-great grandfather, but not much beyond that at this point.  But, what I do have is of tremendous interest.

My great-great grandfather, Jesse T. Thrower (1866-1946)

Jesse married my great-great grandmother, LuAnn Bryant Thrower, sometime in the early 1890's and had my great-grandfather and his siblings with her.  LuAnn's history is where this all gets very interesting, because her mother is also a Richburg, like my great-grandmother on Granny Ann's side of the tree.   LuAnn was born February 2, 1974 and died December 6, 1939, and is interred at the Siloam Creek Baptist Church Cemetary in Crenshaw County.   Her father was John Bryant, and her mother was Mahaley Richburg Bryant.   I was able to find two pictures of LuAnn, and she was apparently a very beautiful lady. 

My great-great grandmother, LuAnn Bryant Thrower (1874-1939) when she was younger

A later picture of LuAnn Thrower, my great-great grandmother

LuAnn's parents, John Bryant and Mahaley Richburg Bryant, are a real find as far as my roots are concerned, because they make a significant link in the family tree I really didn't see coming!  Not much is available on John, as I found he was born May 1, 1828 and passed away July 6, 1914, when he was 86 years of age.   His picture, which I have posted below, shows him as a rather rustic-looking man and he also served during the Civil War in the Confederate Army with the 35th Alabama Regiment.   He like his daughter and son-in-law is likewise buried in the Siloam Baptist Church Cemetary in Crenshaw County.

My great-great-great grandfather, John Bryant (1828-1914)

My great-great-great grandmother, Mahaley Richburg Bryant, provides the perfect bridge at this point between my grandfather's and grandmother's families, because she shares a common ancestry with my grandmother.   Mahaley was born on April 5, 1832 and passed away on February 26, 1916.  She was the daughter of Professor Hugh Richburg (his son, Lawrence Manning Richburg, was my grandmother Ann's great-grandfather) and his second wife, Mary Williams Richburg.  The Richburg family, which I will get into more of later when talking about my grandmother's people, is of French Huguenot and Sephardic Jewish origin, and Hugh's grandfather, Claudius Richbourg, married his grandmother Unity Fox, who was a descendant of several lines of nobility, including 13 (as of this count) lines of descent from the Emperor Charlemagne.   This double-descent from the Richbourg/Fox lineage is for me something very exciting, and something I didn't expect.  I will talk more about the Richbourg family line later on, as it relates from this point to the later discussion.

My great-great-great grandmother, Mahaley Richburg Bryant (1832-1916)

This is a perfect point to talk about another Richburg descendant, my grandmother Anne Lee Compton.   Granny was born on September 10, 1922 in Brantley, AL, and passed away near her home in Jacksonville, FL on November 27, 2008 when she was 86 years old.   I got to know Granny a lot better when she was older because I was able to spend more time with her in my teen and young adult years, and she was a droll but sweet lady.  She married Grandad Thrower in 1939 I believe, and bore three children with him - the youngest died in infancy, then my aunt Annette came along in 1940, followed by my dad in 1948.   After she and my grandfather separated sometime in the early 1950's she remarried a gentleman originally from around Columbus, GA, by the name of Jerome Mixon - she had three additional children - my aunts Diane and Sharon and my uncle Buddy - with him, and they were happily married up until Jerome (affectionately called Pappy) passed away I believe in 1992.   Her legacy is a very rich one, and we will be talking about now.

My grandmother, Ann Lee Compton (1922-2008)

Granny's parents were Joel Talmadge Compton and Nettie Lee Richburg Compton, and their family roots have been pretty well documented by two major sources - one is a history book that came out in the late 1980's by a cousin of mine, P.L. Compton, in Alabama, and the second and far more extensive source is by Dr. William B. Simpson, another distant relative, that is entitled The Huguenot Trail, and is a two-volume work that extensively documents the Richbourg side of the tree.   You will note the spelling varies as to the Richburg name - in later generations, the spelling "Richburg" was the Anglicized version that became the more accepted way of spelling it, but prior to that it was always spelled Richbourg, and even earlier in history it was de Richebourg, but it all pretty much is the same name regardless.   The Richburg family history can be traced back to one man, the Rev'd Claude Phillipe de Richebourg, who arrived in the US sometime after the 1700's and settled near Manakintown in what is today South Carolina.  He was a Huguenot minister, but formerly a Dominican priest by some accounts until his conversion, and he also is said to be the descendant of Spanish Conversos who settled among the Huguenots after being expelled from Spain during the Inquisition.   We will talk more about Claude Phillipe later, but for now I want to briefly talk about the Compton side of the family.

My great grandparents, Joel Talmadge Compton (1887-1953) and Nettie Lee Richburg Compton (1883-1948)

The Compton side of the family, at least as far as my research has taken me, goes back as far as Thomas Compton, born in London in 1715, and his wife Ann Friendly.  Their son, Thomas Friendly Compton (1738-1820), was the first of the family to arrive in the US, where he settled in South Carolina.   The first Compton in that family line to settle in Alabama was my great-great grandfather, Milton S. Compton (1828-1906), who moved to Crenshaw County from Sumter County, SC, sometime after the Civil War.  That seems to have been a pattern, because up until the mid-1800's it seems like most of the Compton/Richburg clan, who apparently were of some means, lived in South Carolina.   It is just a theory, but I believe that possibly losses from the Civil War may have resulted in their moving to Crenshaw County ultimately.  Milton married into another prominent family of  the area when he married my great-grandmother Sarah E. Susan Capps (1835-1927).  The Capps family also had deep roots, possibly Scots or Irish, and I have traced that family line to this point back to a John Capps who lived in the early 1700's.   As fascinating as that is, however, it is about to get a whole lot more interesting.

At this point we now focus on my great-grandmother,  Nettie Lee Richburg Compton (1883-1948).   Nettie was the daughter of Joseph Lawrence Richburg (1856-1927) and Parsilla Ann Buckelew (1851-1931).   I want to first focus on Parsilla's family, as she has quite a genealogy of her own.   Thanks in large part to information provided by Col. Lester Buckelew, a distant relative who has done much of the family research and has generously supplied me with most of his findings, I was able to assembly pretty much all of Parsilla's family tree.  The name has Scots roots, and is alternately spelled "Bucklew," "Buckalew," and in its ancient form, Buccleuch.   Les documents that somehow there is a tie to the Scots clan of Scot, and figuring prominently in his notes is the name Sir Walter Scott of Buccleuch (born 1574).   The connection he makes here is purely hypothetical, but he says possibly that William Buckalew, our earliest ancestor who arrived in the Americas from Scotland sometime in the late 1600's, was somehow descended from Sir Walter Scott - the Scott name was later dropped, it seems, in favor of the Buckalew name instead.  William's son Peter Sr. (1644-1696) was the first of this line born in the Americas, his birthplace being Perth Amboy, NJ.   As the Dutch were still pretty much in control of the area that was to become New York, and they also had a similar Calvinistic Reformed faith to the Scots immigrants, Peter took a Dutch girl, Annetje Fredericks Jansen (1646-1692) as his bride in 1669.   A few generations later, Peter's great-grandson, Richard Buckalew Sr. (1716-1742) settled in the South, and a gradual movement westward brings them into AL, where Richard's grandson, James (1784-1873) settled near Montgomery with his wife, Rebecca Champion (1788-1859).  Rebecca's family is of interest here, because her line extends back to an Edward Champion in the mid-1600's.  It is my hypothesis that the Champion name was French in origin, probably Huguenot, and like a number of Huguenot families they settled in the region of Lancaster and Sumter Counties, SC.  More research needs to be done on that however.   Of course, James' granddaughter, Parsilla, was my great-great grandmother and married my great-great grandfather, Joseph Lawrence Richburg.  At this point, we now turn our focus to the Richburgs.

The headstones of my great-great grandparents, Joseph Lawrence and Parsilla Buckalew Richburg, located at the Zoar Church Cemetery in Elba, AL.

Joseph Lawrence Richburg was of course the son of Lawrence Manning Richburg (1815-1881), who also was the half-brother of my other great-great-grandmother, Mahaley Richburg Bryant (mother of LouAnn Bryant Thrower).  Lawrence Manning of course was the son of Professor Hugh Richbourg by his first wife, Rebecca.   Professor Hugh was an interesting character himself too - he was born in 1788 in South Carolina, and sometime during the Civil War he ended up in Alabama.   He was apparently a very well-learned man, being a schoolteacher, and was also a rabid supporter of the Confederacy (he coined a term, "Yamdankee!" which he often used as a cussword, by what I have read, and apparently was a very expressive individual) .  He married twice, and had two families with his successive wives, and I happen to be descended from both families.   He definitely would have been a great person to know, and I only regret that he was long gone - he passed away in 1867 unfortunately - by the time I came into the picture.   I find him to be one of the most fascinating of my ancestors though, and look forward to finding out more about him in the future. 

Headstone of Professor Hugh Richbourg, at the Zoar Church Cemetery in Elba, AL.

It is Hugh's grandfather, Claudius Richebourg (1716-1788), that is now of interest.  Claudius was the first son of Rev'd Claude Phillipe de Richebourg who was born in the States, and he is of interest because of whom he married, Unity Fox Richebourg (1724-1788).  I will get into her genealogy first, because hers is the most extensive so far in this history.   However, I want to finish up the Richebourg genealogy first by talking a little about Claude Phillipe.  The Rev'd Claude Phillipe de Richebourg (1650-1718) was a Huguenot minister and emigre originally from St. Severe in the province of Berri in France.  At the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, Protestants were placed under severe persecution by the French Crown, and many Huguenots were forced to flee to England, and some later found their way to the Colonies.  A lot of documentation exists for Claude Phillipe, as it has been suggested that he was even a Dominican priest before his conversion to Huguenot Protestantism, but that unfortunately has not been substantiated yet.   Claude Phillipe later married Ann Chastain (1683-1726) who herself was the daughter of a prominent Huguenot emigre, Estienne Chastain.  Her brother, Pierre, was a noted physician.   The Richebourg lineage itself extends at least back to the 1400's, when there is record of a Monsieur de Richebourg (born approx. 1491) who would have been the great-great grandfather of Claude Phillipe.  At this point too, it is also necessary to discuss the possibility that there was some intermarriage at this point among the Huguenots with recent Converso arrivals fleeing the Inquisition in Spain.  The Huguenots would have been likewise persecuted by Catholic authorities, so this was a definite possibility.  I don't have sufficient evidence at this time, but feel that possibly we have Converso ties in the Richebourg line somewhere,  That as well will require some additional research.

The Huguenot parish in Manakintown, SC, which was where Rev'd Claude Phillipe de Richebourg served as a minister.

We now focus our attention back to Unity Fox Richebourg (1724-1788).  Unity's great-grandfather, Henry Fox I (1650-1714), was the Governor of Virginia, and her great-grandmother, Anne West Fox, was the great-granddaughter of Sir Thomas West, or Lord DeLaWarre (after whom the state of Delaware is named, incidentally).  Sir Thomas' wife, Lady Anne Knollys (born 1553), was the daughter of Sir Francis Knollys (1514-1596), who headed one of the most prominent British noble families of the time.   Her mother, Mary Catherine Carey (1522-1568) was the niece of King Henry VIII, as her mother, Lady Mary Boleyn (1504-1543) was the sister of Ann Boleyn, and both were daughters of Sir Thomas Boleyn (1477-1538), the Earl of Ormond.   Through that lineage, in particular through Mary's mother, Lady Elizabeth Howard (1486-1537), a very extensive history goes back over one thousand years linking our family to much of the nobility of Europe, and through that lineage I am personally directly descended from William the Conqueror, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Grand Duke St. Vladimir of Novgorod, and at least 13 lineages of descent from the Emperor Charlemagne.   It is quite an exciting story that I first came across back in 2004, when I was doing some research online one night and started uncovering all this - I was frankly astounded.  To include the whole pedigree here is not even possible, as a matter of fact, due to the fact it is so extensive, but I have verified the information with several sources and it is genuine.   I still find it amazing that me, a poor kid who grew up in rural Appalachia, has such an illustrious bloodline.  And, to think now it comes from two branches of Dad's family!  It is still a lot to digest even today.

Sir Thomas West, Lord DeLaWarre (1545-1601), my 12th great-grandfather, from whom I am descended from a millenium of nobility.

Well, that pretty much gives the "Reader's Digest" version of Dad's lineage for now, although so much more could be said.  However, time constraints and the documentation would require volumes to document, as sitting beside me now as I write this I have a whole box full of genealogical charts, family history books, and other documentation.  I hope you all will enjoy this brief sketch of my paternal heritage, and will hopefully see you all soon.   God bless.

A Little Family History Part I - Mom's Family

Genealogy has been a big interest of mine for many years, and in the course of my research I have uncovered some fascinating things.   All-in-all, my family tree as researched this moment covers about 1000 years of history, and I am still working on it even as I speak now.   What I want to do today is to give you the highlights of my family, and I am doing this in two parts taking into account I have two parents (don't we all - mostly!). 

The way I am going to set this up is sort of like this - I am only going back as far as my great-great grandparents on each tree in-depth, as I have photos of all generations at least back that far.   However, I will be interjecting general family history, as well as short biographies of my parents, grandparents, etc., into the mix.   That being said, let us begin.

I want to start with Mom's family, as I grew up around them and have a little more photo documentation, thus making it easier.   I was born in my mother's home state of West Virginia, and in the same city and hospital she was born in, Parsons.   Mom's family comes from a largely Penn-German/Swiss Dunkard background, with some English, Scots, and Dutch thrown in for good measure.  However, the basic roots of our family are predominantly German/Swiss, and thus that is the cultural context I am coming from.  However, there are some terms to be defined, the first being what a Dunkard is.  Dunkards, also known as "German Baptists" or Schwartzenau Brethren, are an Anabaptist/Pietist sect of Christians that date back to the mid-1700's, when a layman named Alexander Mack organized the first group near the south German village of Schwartzenau.  The name "Dunkard" comes from the baptismal practice of the group, being they baptize by trine immersion face-forward, hence they were called derogatorily by their neighbors the "Tunkenleute," meaning "dippers."  Upon arrival in the US later, the name was anglicized to "Dunker" or "Dunkard" and thus although not an official name, it stuck.  The early Dunkards settled first in Pennsylvania, but gradually moved south and west into the Shenandoah and Potomac River valleys, where many of them became farmers.  In the case of the many families of Dunkards that make up my own family tree, they followed the Upper Potomac into what is today Tucker County, WV, and there many of them settled in an area called the Sugarlands, which is where many prominent families of them live today.  Among those families included the Helmicks, Sponaugles, Carrs, Fanslers, Arbogasts, Stevens, Longs, and others.  And, through my mom's family, I have connections with practically all these families today.

Mom's high school graduation picture, taken in 1965.

I figure it best to start with my mother, Daisy Mae Strahin.  Mom was born in Parsons on December 30, 1946, and she pretty much grew up there until she went into the Army not long after her graduation from high school in 1965.   Mom's childhood was a bit rough, and eventually she ended up being raised by my great-grandmother, who saw her through school and looked after her.  As mentioned, after Mom graduated from Parsons High School in 1965, she entered the Army as a WAC, and was later sent to Okinawa as a dental specialist after doing boot camp at Fort Bliss outside El Paso, TX.   She met and married my dad, Joseph Wayne Thrower, there in 1968, and I came along the following year.  

Mom's parents were David Frederick Strahin, and the late Elsie Virginia Summerfield, and it is them I wish to talk about now.

My grandfather, David Frederick Strahin

My grandfather, David Frederick Strahin, is my only surviving grandparent as of this writing, and has just recently celebrated his 86th birthday.  He was born in a small area called Lehigh, which is up near Leadmine in northwest Tucker County, on September 12, 1925, being the second son of my great-grandparents Charles Judson Strahin and Ottie Mary Stevens.  His oldest brother, Walter, died as an infant a few years before he was born, making him the eldest surviving of his siblings.   Grandad met and married my grandmother, Elsie Virginia Summerfield, in 1945 in Thomas, WV, and later the next year my mother came along as their only child.  Unfortunately, my grandparents later divorced, and Grandad had two marriages after, one to Goldie Marie Nunley Burress (who passed away in 1979), and the second to Wilda Marie Bohon, whom he married in 1979 as well - he and Wilda are still happily married today and live in the small town of Porterwood, WV, just south of Parsons.  Other than a little bout of diabetes and a fractured hip he's still recovering from, Grandad is still in pretty decent health and he contributes from his extensive collection of memorabilia to a lot of county history projects.

My grandmother, Elsie Virginia Summerfield

Although a lot of information exists on my grandmother's family, few pictures do except for this ancient one taken sometime in the early 1940's.  My grandmother, Elsie Virginia Summerfield, was born on January 16, 1925, up Dry Fork in Tucker County, WV.  Her mother, Lottie Mae Rhoades, was originally from Harrison County, WV to the west while her father's family, the Summerfields, were originally from Pendleton County and later settled Tucker.   I know a basic genealogy of my great-grandmother Lottie's people, but not enough to warrant a complete story on this one, so I will be focusing shortly on the Summerfields and related families as that is the crux of her history at this point.  But first, I want to talk about my grandmother.

Elsie Virginia Summerfield was one of the youngest daughters of Lottie Mae Rhoades and Donald Summerfield, and here is where it gets a little complex.   My grandmother had a LOT of siblings, with many of them being half-siblings by her mother's second marriage to my great-grandfather's cousin, Gus Long.   After separating from Donald (my great-grandfather) and then marrying Gus, Great-Granny Lottie later divorced Gus and went back to Donald, and then had my grandmother and three of her other sisters.   Elsie's beginnings were very humble, as Dry Fork was then (and still is now) a fairly remote area of the county that is only accessible by going south on SR 72 from Hendricks, where just outside the Rosendorf community it begins a steep ascent up a narrow ridge as it proceeds to the nearby community of Harman.   The remoteness of the area also forged a special breed of people, and they could be a bit clannish and rough to deal with if you wandered unwelcomed onto their properties.  My grandmother's folks were actually very poor at that time, and they lived in a small cabin-like house far up the Dry Fork gorge that no longer even stands today, although I know the spot where it once was.   The picture below illustrates how rugged the area was, yet it was beautiful in its own way too:

Any rate, for most of her early life, this is where my granmother was raised, although at around the time she married my grandfather she lived in Hendricks in an area over near the river in Rosendorf called "The Coaches."  Years after she and my grandfather separated, my grandmother later remarried a man by the name of Alonzo Lipscomb, who was originally from the nearby town of Kempton, MD.  They spent most of their later life in the town of Augusta, and for a number of years we lived either in their house with them when I was a kid or close by in the community of Kirby.   On June 19, 2004, my grandmother succumbed to a serious stroke and died in Winchester, VA.  She was later buried in Parsons, and one year later Alonzo (or Lonnie, as we called him) also passed on.  Now that I gave a little biographical information on my grandmother, I now want to talk about her family also.

My great-grandfather's family, the Summerfields, originally came from England and all the ones in Tucker County could be traced to two brothers, Joseph and Thomas.  Joseph, the oldest, was my immediate ancestor, as he came over her in the late 1700's after being involved in some criminal activities in the old country with his brother Thomas.   Joseph's line was later Germanized though by the extensive intermarriage of his descendants with many Dunker families, such as the Carrs, Longs, and others, that the English trace is mainly in the surname.  My great-grandfather's mother, for instance, was Sarah Ellen Long, who through her line was also connected to the Arbogasts and Mullenaxes, two other early Dunkard families who settled in Tucker County.   His grandmother (my great-great-great grandmother) Angeline Carr, was from a very well-established Swiss-German family that settled the area from Pennsylvania via Frederick, MD, originally.  There is so much to be said about all those branches of the family, as well as another German family, the Lamberts (originally Lambard, but later anglicized as many German names were then) that I am directly descended from via this line.  For more information about all that, feel free to consult  Carolyn White's excellent family history of the region Dry Fork District - A Family Album (Aurora, WV:  Bookmakers, Inc., 2005).  Also, on the Arbogast part of the family, Charles Eades has the most comprehensive and complete genealogy, albeit some gaps (he is also unfortunately a very unpleasant person to deal with, so best to buy it outright from the publisher).  White's book though has been very helpful in my own research, and I highly recommend it.

My great-grandmother, Ottie Mary Stevens

In an earlier entry, I had already talked about my great-grandmother, Ottie Turner, so I won't go into a lot of biographical information on her personally.  Rather, I want to talk about her folks a little.

Granny's mother's family, the Helmicks, were a German Dunkard family who had been in the US since at least the late 1600's, and every Helmick in the US can trace their roots to one of four original brothers of that clan that came over here from around Hamburg, Germany.  The one our family originates back to is John Helmick, born in 1634.   There is some evidence to suggest that we may also have some Jewish background in our family as well, being that many Jews, fleeing the Inquisition, found refuge among the various groups of Anabaptists in Germany and Holland, and some even converted later (the same is true on my Dad's side too, as his folks were French Huguenots, a group with a large number of converted Anusim in their ranks as well, which is for a later discussion).  Anyway, the Helmicks came into the Sugarlands area of Tucker County originally from Pendleton County to the south, and some point later - about the time of my great-grandmother's great-grandparents - they married into a Dutch family by the name of Vandevender.  The Vandevenders came to the region from Holland via New York, and the family origin goes back in my records to a Pietre Van Deventer who was born sometime around 1550.  Once ensconced in the Sugarlands, the Helmicks became one of the oldest and longest established families in Tucker County, and are so today - they still have their reunion at the Dunkard Church up in the Sugarlands every year, and it is still well-attended by people all over the country.

The old Sugarlands Dunkard Brethren, or "German Baptist" Church, where my great-grandmother's folks attended for generations.

Granny's father's people, the Stevens, are a lot harder to document, as all I have on them just goes back to her grandparents.  However, as Hu Maxwell in his history book points out correctly, the Stevens likewise were of German Dunkard origin as well.

Granny later married, in 1920, my great-grandfather, the Rev'd Charles Judson Strahin, and I want to talk a little about him now.

Rev'd Charles Judson Strahin, my great-grandfather

He was a preacher who was paid by his parishioners with chickens, eggs, and garden vegetables because many people couldn't afford much more than that, and he contracted a chronic illness due to his day labor in the mines and then ferrying the river on a horse in the dead of winter to visit a sick parishioner.   He was my great-grandfather, Charles Judson Strahin - miner, preacher, and historian.  He is also rumored to have compiled the first family history as well, although if true it is long-lost.  He was born in Irondale Furnace, a little community near Reedsville in Preston County, WV, on April 20, 1883.   Although the Strahin surname is Ulster Scots in origin, over the generations after arriving in the US many of our Strahins had been gradually Germanized by marrying into local Dunkard families, and hence my great-grandfather was raised both as a Baptist and as a Dunkard, although his father, Charles Marcellus Strahin, was officially a member of the Baptist church near Herring, WV.  When he was later commissioned to preach, my great-grandfather was, like so many mountain preachers, a circuit-rider who also affilliated with a couple of different groups, one being the Dunkards and the other the United Brethren (a German Wesleyan group with Mennonite origins stemming out of the so-called "Yorker Brethren" movement that sprang out of a revival among the German-speaking Christians in Lancaster, PA, during the First Great Awakening - the United Brethren, in 1880, later split into two factions, with the more progressive faction, the Evangelical United Brethren, later merging with the Methodists - my great-grandfather was with them.  The conservative group, still around and known today as the United Brethren in Christ, still exist).  Therefore, he preached in a variety of churches, including but not limited to Methodist, Dunkard, and United Brethren.  Also, back in the day, there were what was called "union churches," where a variety of different denominations used a church building and held worship services together.  One of these was built by my great-grandfather in Hendricks back in the early 1900's, and today it still stands although since the 1930's the Pentecostals have held the deed to the building. 

This was the original Union Church property my great-grandfather helped to establish in Hendricks at the turn of the last century.  The current congregation, the Rosendorf Pentecostal Church of God, has been meeting here since the 1930's.

And, that is how my great-grandparents met.  My great-grandfather was obviously some 20 years older than my great-grandmother back in the day, but for some reason they connected and were married in 1920.   They later had four sons together - Walter (who died as an infant), my grandfather David Frederick (born 1925), my great-uncle Kenneth Lee (1929-1985), and my great-uncle Maynard (1931-1994) - dates are estimated on the uncles.   Eventually, my great-grandfather contracted black lung disease, which later developed into tuberculosis, and was later admitted to the tuberculosis hospital which was at that time in Hopemont, WV.  It was there where he passed away on April 26th, 1932.

Charles Judson's parents - my great-great-grandparents - were Charles Marcellus Strahin and Eve Jane Grim.   Now, I want to talk a little about them individually.

My great-great grandfather, Charles Marcellus Strahin

Charles Marcellus Strahin was my great-great grandfather, and he was born on January 20, 1852 in the small town of Herring, in Preston County, WV.   Unlike his preacher grandson, Charles Marcellus was a fairly prominent person in his community, being a member of the local Baptist Church, the lodge, as well as being a fireman by trade.   Many of the Strahins in the US today can trace their roots to him, as those of us who are his descendants are many and varied.   His parents were Francis Marion Strahin and Mary Matilda Field, who incidentally was the second cousin of his wife, my great-grandmother Eve Jane Grim.  Mary Matilda's mother's family were Grims as well. and that line continues under the discussion of Eve Jane's here shortly.

Pleasant Grove Cemetary near Herring, WV - where the final resting place of Charles Marcellus Strahin is.

Eve Jane Grim, my great-great-grandmother, was also of note here, as she was a Dunkard girl who defined a lot of my own heritage.   She was born on January 27, 1852, in Preston County and died in 1935 near Morgantown.  Her mother's family, the Sniders, were of particular interest as well, being they have a long history in that part of West Virginia.  Her paternal grandmother, Catherine Fortney(1771-1858), came from a mixed line of Huguenots and Dunkards, as the Fortney name was originally Fortineaux, while her great-grandmother's maiden name was Pickenpaugh, a name anglicized from the German Beckenbach.  It is really an exciting history when you think about it too.  Her father, David Grim, was interesting enough a first cousin to her mother-in-law, Mary Matilda Field, my great-great-great grandmother, but more on that momentarily.

My great-great grandmother, Eve Jane Grim Strahin

My great-great grandfather's family, the Strahins, came of course from a Scots origin, as originally they were a variant of the Strachan name that first appeared sometime around 1490.   Sometime after my great-great-great-great grandfather, William Strahin's, time, anything dating back from him became speculation.  However, there are plenty of resources documenting the Strahin roots, not the least of which is my late relative Richard Dale Strahin's 1983 book, The Family Strahin, which documents a lot of the history of the family, although not a complete history regarding the families that married into ours and became part of our heritage, such as the Grims, Fortneys, and Fields.  However, modern technology has helped a lot there too, so thanks be to God for the internet!

I wanted to lastly mention my great-great-great grandmother, Mary Matilda Field Strahin, whom thankfully my cousin Patty Strahin Markley happened to find a picture!  So, this is her:

Mary Matilda Field Strahin, my great-great-great grandmother

Mary Matilda's story is a little more complex.  She was born on April 20, 1830 possibly in Pennsylvania and passed away in 1903.   She married my great-great-great grandfather, Francis Marion Strahin (b. 1829), and was a granddaughter as well of David Grim and Catherine Fortney through her mother, Mary Grim, thus meaning she and my great-great grandmother were cousins as well.   Her father's family, the Fields, were of Norman lineage going back several generations - her grandfather, Benjamin Field, was born in 1763 in New Jersey, meaning his parents came from overseas.   Any rate, that is where our family's roots lie, and although much more could be said - this was just the "Reader's Digest" version so I could only do so much with it - it is nonetheless a fascinating story.

In the next section, I will deal with my father's family, as there is much to be documented there as well.  Thank you for taking a tour through my roots with me.

Memories of My Granny

A couple of things today inspired me to write this, one being it is the holiday season and the second being I have read a couple of books the last week that got me thinking about my own childhood, and it gave me some fond recollections I just had to share.   My great-grandmother, Ottie Turner, has been gone from this world now for about 26 years, being she reposed in 1985.  As she had a great influence on my life when I was growing up, and in a lot of ways I carry on a lot of her legacy myself, she is an important person to me that I love and truly miss at times.  Although I know that she was only human and not by any means a perfect person, I think of her as a saint, because to me that was who she was.  And, I want to share some of those memories with you now.

Back when I came into the world in the little town of Parsons, WV, back in 1969, the first place I ever lived when I went home from the hospital was Granny's in the nearby town of Hendricks.  She lived in this big house down by the Black Fork River next to an old swinging bridge that was there forever, and as a youngster that house became the center of my universe growing up.   I still remember smells I associated with the old homeplace - blueberries and lilacs come to mind, except in Granny's bedroom off the living room, which smelled like Easter candy.   It was a beautiful house, a sanctuary, and from the time I was born up until I was around 8 years old we called that place home a lot.  Unfortunately, in the Flood of 1985, it was wiped away and no longer stands there, and the picture below shows what happened to the house during the flood:

Granny's house was at the right of the picture.

Over the years, I have tried to bring a little piece of that old house to my own places I have lived, but it can never be the same exactly - Granny's was a unique house, but it does live in my memories and always will.  I do dream about it on occasion, and those dreams provide a nice visit, but I do miss the place.  And, I miss my Granny too - she was a wonderful lady.

Granny's roots began up in an area just north of Parsons called Holly Meadows, which was at the edge of a beautiful region in central Tucker County called the Sugarlands.  A couple of centuries back, a number of German Dunkard families settled that area, seeing the great potential for agriculture due to the rich bounty of the Cheat and Blackwater Rivers that border it, and among those were two families, the Stevens and the Helmicks.  Sometime in the late 1880's, a young Dunkard farmer named David Stevens married a young Dunkard girl named Antoinette, or "Nettie," Helmick, and they started a life together eventually having four children.  Granny was one of the youngest, being born in 1902, and she later married young when a 40-ish Dunkard preacher by the name of Charles Judson Strahin proposed to her when she was about 17 or so.   She ended up having four sons with him (the oldest, Walter, died in childbirth), and their second son, my grandfather David Frederick Strahin, is my grandfather who was born in 1925.   My great-grandfather Charles later died in 1932 of complications from black lung disease, and Granny soon after remarried her second husband, Delbert "Mose" Turner, with whom she had five additional children.  Her life was full but often hard - she was a young preacher's widow, and later had a bad end to her second marriage, and later she worked at the local hospital where she walked the three miles from Hendricks to Parsons every day for years until constant bouts of colitis soon forced her to retire.  But, she also was a woman of great faith - she never missed church on Sunday unless she was sick, always prayed at night before falling to sleep, and knew her Bible well.   That, along with a great gift for cooking and maintaining a wonderful house meant that life rarely slowed for her.  And, that is a legacy that lives after her today.



The Sugarlands in Tucker County, the home of Granny's folks.

My memories of Granny at this point are very personal.  I recall for instance her eating a bowl of Fruit Loops with me every morning when I was about six, and although she could cook some delicious breakfasts (fresh sausage patties and large, thick lean strips of bacon were often on the table), she enjoyed doing that with me.   However, her favorite thing was this stuff which in German was called Kopfkase (literally "head cheese," and the imagination goes far with that!) but the Americanized market version of it was called scrapple.  For those of you not familiar with Penn-German cuisine, scrapple is this square of grey jelly-like stuff made from boiled pig parts, corn meal, and seasonings (in the old days, it was also made from boiling a pig's head, hence the name kopfkase!), and the way it is typically prepared is sliced into squares and fried - it resembled a grey cheese.   I never really had the taste for it, as it just looked too weird, but Granny could live on it had she been able to. 



Scrapple, or Kopfkase (sometimes called panhase by the Mennonites).

Another little habit that crept into our family from our Penn-German Dunkard roots that my grandmother had a lot to do with was the use of certain names, either as terms of endearment or names said in anger if one of our parents or grandparents got a little ticked off at us.  One I remember well was GabeScheiss which I could never find a literal meaning of, but generally it had a connection to someone being a goofball.   Another one of these terms was Dumkopf which of course means "dumb head," and could be used as a term of endearment or exasperation, depending on the context of the situation.   Yet another was Machschnitz with "schnitz" referring to apple and rotten, meaning a spoiled brat basically.   Granny and her folks passed stuff like this down through the generations, and today I still call our cats those names when I get exasperated at them.  

Often, when I was little and we stayed with Granny too, I remember often getting to sleep in her bed at night, especially when it was cold out.  One ritual she always had was heating up this old antique iron (which actually was black iron) on the coal stove in the living room, then wrapping it in a towel and putting it at the foot of the bed.  It was an old practice of keeping the bed warm at night, and worked well during our cold winters.  And, she always said her prayers before bed too - she would kneel next to the bed and pray for everyone in the family, as well as for neighborhood people who had sickness or whatever, and I remember always lying there whispering to her, "don't forget me too, Granny!" - she never did either.  And, she also made sure - as did Mom - that I went to Sunday School.  After my great-grandfather passed in the '30's, Granny attended the Free Methodist church there in Hendricks, which was up the street from the house, and we often walked there on Sundays.  Although the church my great-grandfather built was in nearby Rosendorf - it has been home to the Pentecostal Church of God congregation since the 1930's - she chose to attend the Free Methodist parish because of its close proximity.  Her family's church though was up in the Sugarlands, an old Dunkard church that still stands and meets today and where the reunions of her mother's family, the Helmicks, are held every year still as they have been for decades.   Granny was a woman of strong convictions and beliefs, and Mom often pays me a high compliment by saying that I remind her of Granny with my own convictions.  Hearing that gives me a sense of great pride and awe, because to carry on my Granny's legacy in that way is a great responsibility, and for Mom to say that means something significant.   I only hope that when I see her in heaven one day, Granny can say the same thing. 

Although a sweet and compassionate lady of great conviction, Granny was also someone who didn't take a lot of nonsense either.  She was a little lady, but she also commanded great respect, and we did well to make sure she got it.  I remember crossing that line with her once when I was seven years old, and although I was not supposed to be down near the river - I couldn't swim, plus there were deadly snakes in the area - I ran off down there anyway.  Within a short time, here came Granny with a spatula, and she gave me a tanning on my rear I wouldn't soon forget!  Of course, at the age of seven, I often had my own names for stuff, and instead of spatula I called it a "skillet spoon," and to this day my family still loves telling stories about me and that "skillet spoon!" 

I also can remember the Sunday drives Mom took me and Granny on, as well as the yearly expeditions to pick the berries Granny turned into delicious cobblers, preserves, pies, and other goods.  Granny's favorite spot to pick huckleberries was up in the Stoney River region above Thomas, where the berries grew thick and plentiful in those days.  I of course loved helping, and berry-picking was a family affair for us all.  She also loved picking blackberries and red mountain raspberries up in Shaver's Fork, an area out on a dirt road just south of Parsons.   For about a week after the house smelled of berries as Granny canned and baked stuff with them.   Today many of those places where the berries were plentiful are no longer there, and not many people take foraging berries as seriously as the older generations did - many of them did it to survive, and as a result our forebears always ate well even when money was scarce.   It was Granny also that taught generations of our family to make candy out of potatoes at Christmas, gravy out of tomatoes in the summer, and fried cucumber slices, among other good stuff.   She also had home remedies that I still use to this day - she knew that whiskey and sugar water would knock out a cold, mint would cure a stomach ache, and the juice of fried onions would calm a teething baby's gums.  That wisdom is valuable, but it again is what the older folks needed to survive the harsh Appalachian winters.   When I think of how much I really learned from Granny, it is amazing, and the world is a poorer place today without people like her in it anymore.   And, mostly because of her, today blueberries are still my favorite fruit and lilacs my favorite flower - they evoke such good memories.

Much more could be said about Granny's legacy, but time and space do not permit.  However, I am glad to share it with you, and hope this will maybe get you thinking about your own folks.   I wish you all a happy holiday season, and until next time stay safe and take care.



A Carrot, An Egg, and A Cup of Coffee

 

(This is a story I saw recently in the Saint Antony Messenger, published by the Coptic Monastery of St. Antony in Barstow, CA. It has a good message, and hope you will enjoy it too.)


A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up; she was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. she let them sit and boil, not saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see."

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," the daughter replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted they were soft. The mother then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversary - boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique however. After they were in the boiling water for a while, they changed the water.

She asked her daughter then, "Which are you?" "When adversity knocks at your door, how do you respond - are you a carrot, and egg, or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: which am I?? Am I the carrot that seems strong but with pain and adversity do I wilt and lose my strength?  Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship, or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or, am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstances that bring the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. if you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is darkest and trials are at their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity - are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. May we all be COFFEE!!!!!