Courageous Roots

We have recently returned from a wonderful family vacation. We were in my husband's home state, and then we continued on after several nights to my Dad's home state, New Jersey. This was a bitter-sweet trip for me, as my Dad passed away January 25th of this year, and we were staying with my Grandpop, his dad. It was wonderful to be surrounded by family, and to be loved and supported by them.

One highlight for me was listening to my Grandpop's stories from when he was younger. He talked of his mother often. I could hear the love he had for her in his voice. One point of contention for him and his siblings seems to be that their parents would not speak English. My great-grandfather immigrated from Sicily in 1921 i think. One and a half years later, my great-grandmother and her 3 year old son immegrated and joined him... Sebastiano, then Marianna with little Giuseppi (or Joseph). Even though they clung to the ways of the old country, my Grandpop still had love and affection for his mother.

a picture of my great grandmum & my dad in Phili.

Great Grandmum. I am inspired by her courage. She was so tired of the warring and fighting. She did not want to lose anyone to wars. Her husband had served in WWI in the Italian Army. She wanted to leave Sicily and come to America. So, they did! They left all they knew, to come to a new country. At that time, our country DID NOT give the immigrants anything. They came with all they owned or could carry across they sea. They then had to find work and housing. They could only come by being sponsored by someone here in the U.S. Thus, Sebastiano was sponsored by an uncle (or cousin??) that was here. He then had to PROVE that he could support his wife and son before they were able to come. Once done, they came and made a new life here. They landed in Philidelphia and were a part of the large community of Italians, which was know as 'Little Italy'. There are so many stories that my Grandpop told of life then! What stands out in my mind is the courage it took for them to leave home and come start all over again in a new country. My great-grandmother was a woman of courage and stamina. She gave her life to serve her husband and her children. That was what she did. She raised her family. She served her husband. She did all this in a new country, not knowing the language.

Listening to the stories of the various women in the family, from my great grandmum, to my great aunt, to my grandmum, i realized one common thing... they served. They served their families. That was priority. Everything else came second to that one thing. I needed to be reminded of that. I needed to hear the stories. I needed to take courage and embrace serving my family with the same passion. And i serve my family, my husband and kids, to the glory of our great and awesome God.

I am ever thankful for this trip. It reminded me of my roots. It showed me my heritage (my earthly heritage). It inspired me to serve my husband and children, for God's glory, with all my heart. Is it easy? No. Is it supposed to be? I don't think so. But, i DO know, that with God's strength, all things are possible!