GRANDMA CLIMBING A TREE 


There's been a change in Grandma, we've noticed as of late She's always reading 
history, or jotting down some date.  She's tracing back the family, we all have 
pedigrees.  Grandma's got a hobby; she's climbing Family Trees.  Poor Grandpa 
does the cooking, and now, or so he states He even has to wash the cups and 
dinner plates.  Well, Grandma can't be bothered, she busy as a bee, compiling 
genealogy for the Family Tree.  She has no time to baby-sit; the curtains are a 
fright.  No buttons left on Grandpa's shirt, the flower beds are a sight.  She's 
given up her club work, the serials on TV.  The only thing she does nowdays is 
climb the Family Tree.  The mail is all for Grandma, it comes from near and far.  
Last week she got the proof she needs to join the DAR.  A monumental project-to 
that we all agree.  A worth while avocation to climb the Family Tree.  There 
were pioneers and patriots mixed with our kith and kin, Who blazed the paths of 
wilderness and fouight through thick and thin.  But non more stunch than 
Grandma, whose eyes light up with glee, Each time she finds a missing branch for 
the Family Tree.  To some it's just a hobby, to Grandma it's much more.  She 
learns the joys and the heartaches of those who went before.  They loved, they 
lost, they laughted, they wept-and now for you and me, They live again, in 
spirit, around the Family Tree.  At last she's nearly finished, and we are each 
exposed.  Life will be the same again, this we all suppose.  Grandma will cook, 
and sew, serve crullers with out tea.  We'll have her back just as before that 
wretched Family Tree.  -Author Unknown 

Submitted by Bruce Davis