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Window in The Parish Church of St. Wilfrid, 
 Mobberley, Cheshire, England - Top row L-R 'Mobberley 1206' 'Mobberley 1299' 
& 'Mobberley 1306' - 2nd row center 'Mobberley 1322' goes here
Window in The Parish Church of St. Wilfrid, Mobberley, Cheshire, England
Top row L-R "Mobberley 1206" "Mobberley 1299" & "Mobberley 1306"
2nd row center "Mobberley 1322"

"People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors."
-- Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

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Let us now praise famous people, our ancestors in their generations. The Lord gave them great glory, his majesty from the beginning. There were those who ruled kingdoms, and made a name for themselves by their courage; those who gave advice because they were intelligent; those who were prophets; those who led the people by their wisdom and knowledge; those who wrote music or poetry; rich people, living peacefully in their homes--all these were honored in their day, and were the pride of their times. Some of them have left behind a name, so that others praise them. But of others there is no memory; they died without anyone knowing them; but these also were godly people, whose good deeds have not been forgotten; their children will continue forever, and their glory will never be blotted out. Their bodies are buried in peace, but their name lives on generation after generation.


We are the Chosen

In each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve.

Doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the storytellers of the tribe. All tribes have one. We have been called, as it were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us, "Tell our story!" So, we do.

In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a wonderful family; you would be proud of us." How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who am I and why do I do the things I do. It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying, "I can't let this happen." The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish, how they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family.

It goes to deep pride that the fathers fought and some died to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. It is of equal pride and love that our mothers struggled to give us birth. Without them we could not exist, and so we love each one, as far back as we can reach.

That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So we do.

With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are they and they are the sum of who we are. So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take my place in the long line of family storytellers.

That is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and restore the memory or greet those whom we had never known before.

Author Unknown


Mobberley Sign

The sign was in a median where the road forks just south of Mobberley village. - Lynn Mobley Eaton 3/18/2009


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