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Letter to my Ancestors

I’ve been writing more letters as of late. Here is another one.

Dear _,

I wish that I had spoken to you more when you were alive. By the time I could understand you, you had begun to lose understanding yourself. You taught me about valuing the little things - a toy dragonboat, old photos, an ounce of kindness. I learned from you also that you reap what you sow. That if you fail to show mercy, when you become vulnerable, mercy is not shown to you.

But what I admire most is that you persevered. God dealt you a hand and you played it. There was no fold in you.

I recognize now that your joy was immeasurable when you heard our little voices an ocean away. I feel that way about your great-grandchildren. I smile that happy smile when I hear their voices.

The sounds represent hope. They signify that our lives are greater than just the sum of our actions. Our actions lead to lives of their own.

You persevered. You lived.

That is probably the most important of all.