The Shamokin Cemetery News

As I search for my ancestry, I wonder what my ancestors looked like, what was their life like. What did they like to do and what foods did they like? I am thankful they were a part of my history and that their history made me who I am today. I cam across a poem by Mary Frye

Do not stand at my Grave and Weep
I am not there – I do not sleep
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in the snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
As you awake with morning’s hush I am the
Swift-up-flinging rush of quiet birds in circling flight
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there – I did not die.

Shamokin Cemetery