Christian
In every year that passes by, there's friends from overseas, visiting a little town with dreams of family. Perhaps a castle some will say, or gold in ancient halls, perhaps a line of great descent, behind some waterfalls. Walking streets which long since gone, with hopes of names or face, wearily they pace around to find the slightest trace. And when we ask about the task, the answer's never clear, identity or Grandpa's home or memories they hold dear. Still there is a waiting wealth, which passed through every line, a joyful welcome and a smile to all who take the time. And legacies of golden bowls surrendered long ago, exchanged for joy preserved in time, for future folk to know. Heirs of joy, and stewardship still, which lasts beyond our peers, kindness, smiles remembered still throughout the passing years. If today a search does come to wanton lonely minds, think not of watches or old clocks to search for back in time. Instead to know their sense of joy, is shared today by all, a random act of kindness do, instead of searching halls. For welcome, joy and happiness was theirs and ours today, there is no forgetting acts of Love which fall on minds today. Make your mark for future lines, by random acts of good, remembered more by other folk than silver, gold or wood.