Genealogy

The following is a poem that Grandma Esplin gave me in my Book of Remembrance years ago.

Facts or Fancy

Woe is me, such misery and pain
For 200 years my hopes were in vain,
Until one of my kin just happened to hear
Of the Gospel restored, and the truth was quite clear.
"You must save your dead to have Eternal Life,"
But finding the right ones has caused toil and strife.
I've been taught here in heaven and I, too, see the light,
If only my kin folk would seal things up right.

Marie Brawn is the name to which I was born,
But the name, Mary Brown, by records adorn.
I've wept and I've wailed and gnashed all my teeth
In vain to inform those off-spring beneath,
To be sealed to my man has long been by dream,
But they've joined me to one I've not even seen.

Six children I bore with both joy and tears,
And waited with longing for them through the years.
But sadly to say there have only been three
That those relatives yet have had sealed to me.
To make matters worse, they discovered four others
And blandly porclaimed that I was their mother.
Now if that's not enought to in patience withstand,
They say I'm 50 years older than I really am.

So I earnestly beg and implore and beseech,
To stress accurate care with the people you teach,
In recording the names the dates and the places,
For fear of adjoining wrong names and wrong faces.
Genealogy work that is not rightly spelled
May consign "Old Joe" to a place that's -- oh well,
Just remember to copy each record with care;
Get your facts straight and always beware
Of errors in time and above all in name.
For another man's wife is never the same
As the one whose tongue is sharpened on you,
So be sure that your temple records are true.

By Evelyn Meadows and Carma Lowe