The Walls

heritage 2family 1

As you walk into my home, the first room you encounter, we call the library. The walls are lined with old photos that outline my heritage. I cherish each item that represents the people that came before me. From my Grandpa Weber’s plaid hat, to the locket that belonged to my Grandmother’s biological mother who died when she was just a toddler. I have birth records, marriage licenses, and the diploma my Grandmother received in 1925 when she graduated from the 8th grade, the farthest her education would take her. It is my hope that my grandchildren take the stories they have been told and pass them down to the next generation…”Memories that cease to be shared, disappear forever.”

Upon my walls, within these frames
Are countless stories and endless names
Horton, Adams, Weber and Pahl,
The person I am, is part of them all
Florence and William from England they came
Bearing the Walton, from which I am named
Their hardships were many, the tears that they shed
Never enough, endless mouths to be fed
I see who I am, as I gaze at my wall
A composite of them, the short and the tall
The photos are old, but those faces I see
Are gifts from the past and are priceless to me
(Cindi Walton 2015)


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