SPECIAL 2007 HAPPENINGS

1.
HISTORIC DEERFILED INTRO LETTER 12/22/2006

2007 DESCENDANTS REUNION NOTICE

MEMBERSHIP ENVELOP - PAGE 1, PAGE 2

We have our Direct Descendant, David Hoyt, Hoit, captured his family and he was one of many that died on the

March to Canada in 1704, after the Indian Raid.

goto: David Hoyt(2618), Deerfield, MA - 6th Great-Grandfather..

to read and learn more

We are the chosen. My feelings are that in each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know, and approve. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe; all tribes have one. We have been called, as it were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us: "Tell our story!" So, we do.

In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a wonderful family, you would be proud of us?" How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who I am and why I do the things I do? It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds, and indifference, and saying I can't let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family. It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are them and they are us.

So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers. That, is why I do my family genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and put flesh on the bones.

Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them but you always know they are there. from Maxine Lil Heselton St Burnaby BC Canada

GRANDMA'S APRON

I don't think some of our kids know what an apron is.

The principal use of grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath,
but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from
the oven.
It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used
for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks,
and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven

When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.

And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood
stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had
been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples
That had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much
furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron,
and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace
that "old-time apron" that served so many purposes.

Send this to those who would know, and love the story about Grandma's
aprons.

REMEMBER

Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool.

Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw.

GOD BLESS! And have a good day

Sent to me by Bernie M. Hoyt, from CA

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said in a clear strong voice.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to her.

"Have you ever looked at your hands," she asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?"

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life."

"They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war."

"They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse."

"They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand."

"They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer."

"These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

When you receive this, say a prayer for the person who sent it to you and watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue praying for one another. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both.

Contact John E. Hoyt

About the Author, and his place in the Family Tree

****NEWS****

(Click below thumbnail to go to Index of Pages.)

A New HOYT GENEALOGY courtesy by

Donne Puckle, AZ Compiled in 1952,

by Sara B. (Clark) Hoyt & Mary E. (Hoyt) Price;

includes family surnames: Brown, Clark, Foote, Hoyt, Puckle

Jonathan G. Hoyt's Brother Benjamin Families

====================

NEWLY FOUND WEB SITE

Deerfield Massace 1704 & Lt. Jonathan Hoyt Story of Capitivity & Biography, son of our direct line of Lt.David Hoyt .

====================

After researching the section of the HHH Book of 1871 by David W, Hoyt,

"Hoyte in England", & combining Robin Bush's Research, & the ancestry.com CD's, I am able to find and place 4 new generations to our English Heritage. I had to fill in gaps from the 1417-1418 record of a John Hoyt being a baker; ahead, to Thomas Hoyte born abt. 1520, at Cirrey Rivel, then to Michael & to our Simon Hoyte to America.. ......Please go to the Hoyt/e's in England web page, to see my research, Robin Bush link, the pages 273-281 of the HHH Book of 1871., & ancestry.com CD's findings.

If you wish a gedcom with these in source and notes of perhaps 100 new individuls that have been added, mostly from 1500-1800 in England,

please E-mail for this (.ged).file.