This summer my daughter and her little girl stayed with us for a few days. One day, I showed my granddaughter a bowl that had belonged to one of her great-great-grandmothers. With all the sincerity of an eight-year-old, she said she wished that they were still alive. She wanted to meet them and talk to them. She doesn’t yet understand about lifespan and the impossibility of eternal youth.

Her innocent wish made me think about all the generations that have led to her life. On my mother’s side of the family, both of my great-grandmothers faced incredible challenges. One grew up in Scotland and the other in Wales. Eventually, both great-grandmothers, Scottish and Welsh, moved to Canada. Following the offer of land in the North, they were among the first settlers in the Shillington area. They cleared the bush with saws and horses and wagons, they survived the Great Fire, they lived through the Depression. They watched their world change and they changed with it.

From those two families, a son and daughter met and were married. They were my mother’s parents. Our heritage includes hard work and risk taking, vision and perseverance. More than names are handed down from generation to generation. We have so much to learn from those who went before us. Every time I set out my mother’s dinnerware or use my grandmother’s mixing bowl, I’m reminded of the strength and tenacity of those women who left their homes and countries to forge a new life in a new world. It gives me hope that my children and theirs will find that same strength as they follow their own journeys.