Who has not, at some point in time, thought or wondered about their “roots”?
Upon hearing this word, perhaps as is my case, you think about the book and television series ROOTS by Alex Haley, where he he explored his own “roots,” taking him back to Africa.
Fortunate are those of us who have had a chance to get to know our parents and grandparents. While our relation with each might be good, bad, or non-existent; what is certain, is that the person we are, comes in great part from who they were. From our DNA, determining our physical characteristics, to our temperament and character, everything we are has its roots in our relatives.
Have you thought about your ancestors which came before your parents and grandparents?
Have you ever imagined what their lives were like, so many years ago?
Recently I have fanned the fire of interest I have had with respect to my own “roots.” My journey has taken me more than 250 years into the past, covering ten generations. As I read over the lives of each of the people I encounter, on the pages of my own history, my imagination goes beyond the facts and figures indicating birth, marriage, and death dates. I think about the lives each of them had while they wandered the earth we now inhabit. Surely, they went through ups and downs in life, similar to the ones you and I have now.
While each of us have many “roots,” and each takes us do a different part of our past, the one related to my last name traces back to Belfast, Ireland, where my earliest known McBride ancestor, Samuel McBride, was born in 1749. He came to the United States on a ship from Ireland, in the summer of 1772, arriving into Newcastle, Deleware, on August 20. Subsequently he settled on and farmed a 6oo acre tract of land close to what is now New Bedford, Pennsylvania, close to the border with Ohio.
Samuel kept a diary which was subsequently read by one of his descendants, Dr. Cooper Fenimore McBride, who discovered the diary while he was compiling a book called, THE RECORD OF SAMUEL McBRIDE. The book he wrote was subsequently published in 1891. The author gave a copy of the book to my great grandfather’s uncle in 1895, who in turn gave it to my great grandfather. My great grandfather, gave it to my father, who subsequently gave the book to me, several years before his death.
Upon reviewing each of the pages in the book, time passes before my eyes as I read the accounts of men who gave their lives in war and women who invested theirs in nurturing their families. Some lived a very brief existence, while others lived great tales of persistence and excellence.
Reading about each person, it’s interesting to imagine how much transpired in each of their lives between the two dates indicating their birth and their death. They were men and women who woke up every morning with the song of birds in the air and the sight of dawn’s brilliantly changing light. Certainly they experienced the sadness which comes with difficult loss, and too the exhilaration from great gain. 
They went out into the world daily to put food on the table and came home with sweat on their brow. They greeted their family and then washed off the dirt to get ready for dinner. While the details of each are quite different, the result is the same. You and I came from these people who once wandered the Earth, just as you and I do now.
Our being begins with those who are now but names on a page. Going through each line of our ancestry, we find people from many walks of life, each leaving their footprints along the way. 
Each likely had a love lost, and another that prospered; a road traveled, and another left for another day. To sum it up, a life lived and a story told.
How are you doing with your story of life?
When future generations come to your page in history, what will they do?
Will they deem your story worthy of their time, or will they simply turn to the next page?
Just as those who once walked the face of the earth are part of our roots, so too will we be the roots of future generations. 
The footsteps we leave, be they of love and well-being, or anger and hate; will be all that is left when our time here is done. It depends on us whether our footsteps will be held up high in esteem, or forgotten and erased by the sand of time.
∞ Rob McBride ∞
LL IV 5
