Add Stories to Your Family Tree

I noticed the other day as I walked through Cracker Barrel many reminders that Holiday Season is almost upon us! While the ornaments and decorations are always lovely, this year I noticed a large book being offered as a place to have our older relatives jot down memories and stories about their lives. The pages in the book offered writing prompts to help folks focus their stories like…What was it like for you as a child in such a big family? or What were your favorite school subjects?

Here are some sample books from Amazon:

Trying to capture the events of a long life are difficult, but with writing prompts like these, many stories can be captured for posterity. If relatives are nearby, younger relatives could offer to do the writing by listening or recording and transcribing the stories.

Books like these are a great idea for relatives who live farther away, but sometimes all we have are little snippets of memories that come up when we’re eating Thanksgiving dinner together.

These memories and stories can really enhance a simple Family Tree Diagram.

I described how to make a simple Family Tree for young children in a previous post last year (see https://marykisner.com/building-a-simple-family-tree/). I’m now suggesting that adding some of these stories will help younger family members understand interesting details of their lives.

I feel fortunate that both my father (Paul Bixby) and my grandfather (John Bixby) were prolific writers and left behind a pretty complete accounting of their growing up years. I’d like to share two stories that could certainly tell my grandchildren a lot about their great grandfathers that they will never meet or met when they were very young and don’t remember them.

Story of the Early Years from Grandpa John

“I was born on a farm in Aurora Township, Minnesota, December 26, 1882. Eventually I had 3 brothers and 2 sisters: Jacob, Lottie, Abraham, Isaac and Gertrude. The winter of 1882-1883 was a severe one with deep snow and blocked roads. That is the reason I arrived one day late for Christmas!

The first 6 years of my life are pretty much a blank as I remember them now, but I must have grown at a tremendous rate for before I was eight years old, I was raking hay with old Nellie (our work horse) and the new self-dump rake. That fall I was plowing with four big horses and the 2-wheel sulky plow.

The years from 1888 to 1893 were spent in school and helping where I could on my father’s 240-acre farm. The school year back then was a 5 or 6 month term mostly during the winter. My father taught two of those winter terms, the first when I was six. During that winter we learned how to read a bit, count, add and subtract and write our names. When father taught, he would rise at 4:30, do a lot of farm chores, eat a hurried breakfast, pile us kids into the wagon or sleigh, pick up several more kids on the way, put his team in a nearby farmer’s barn and be ready to ring the bell at nine.”

A Memory of Tough Love from Grandpa Paul

“When I was about eight years old I had a calf named Daisy. I had begged Dad to let the new-born Guernsey be mine, and promised to take care of it through the summer until a fall sale would bring dollars to buy my new shoes for school. She was too small to drink from the cattle tank so she was staked out in lush grass near the house. She depended on me for water. Mother had made it very clear that if I were to claim ownership, responsibility for chores also would be mine. Dad had agreed. All was good fun for a while but as the summer weeks passed, other interests lured me. More than once Mother had reminded me to carry water to Daisy.

One morning Mother, Dad and my baby sister Ruth were headed to town and I wanted to go too. It was always fun to go to town with its big grocery store and the Post Office. But going to town meant the chores had to be finished. Daisy couldn’t be left without fresh water.

That morning there had been a note of annoyance in Mom’s call about water. I dallied a bit with the new ‘invention’ I was working on in the shop and in what I thought was plenty of time I dropped my tools and started for the pump with my pail. However, that was when I realized I was too late to finish the chore and still go to town. They left without me!

I was crushed and cried like a baby. I filled the tub properly and sat under a tree to mope and slowly began wondering what Dad might say or do when he returned. When they finally returned, two-year-old Ruthie ran to meet me; Mom said Aunt Clara wondered where I was; Dad glanced at the water in Daisy’s tub and said nothing. Lesson learned…chores before fun!”

Capture Those Shared Stories and Memories

I think one of the most common things to happen when extended families gather over the holidays are the shared stories and memories. Take advantage by encouraging older folks to share these stories with the younger ones. They will never forget those special times. Please enjoy your loved ones throughout the holiday season!

Please comment or email me directly at marykisner@comcast.net.