Thursday, January 9, 2014

Alex W Fraser - Rhoda Ross published titles available for download W Fraser - Rhoda Ross published titles available for download

1- As Other See US
2- 2005 Fraser genealogy Companion to AOSU
3- The Canadian Glen Falloch Murrays, photo name Index,
4- Cote St George BMD & Cemetery 
5- The Descendants of Angus, John and Donald Cameron,
6- Donald Fraser & Peter MacIntosh Family Tree Charts, 1750-1975
7- Fr John's Diary of Death 1819-1866 & 1839 Census
8- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 3
9- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 4
10- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 5
11- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 6
12- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 7
13- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 8
14- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 9
15- Gravestones of Glengarry Volume 10
16- Gravestones of Prescott V1, McLaughlin & Barb
17- Gravestones of Prescott V2, Ste Anne de Prescott
18- Gravestones of Stormont, V1 Cornwall St Columbans, Maple Ridge, St John’s Pres
19- It Came From The Heart
20- The Kennedys, MacDiarmids, McDermids, Munros Photo Name Index,
21- Knox United Church BMD, 1881-1977 Lancaster, Ontario,
22- Lost Villages Cemetery index,
23- The MacDougalls - MacEwens - Stewarts - Munroes - Robertsons Photo Name Index
24- Rev James McNally, Partial Baptism Marriage Parish Register 1836 1865,
25- McNaughtons of Glengarry V.1
26- McNaughtons of Glengarry V.2
27- McNaughtons of Glengarry V.3
28- McNaughtons of Glengarry V.4
29- Maxville; Its Centennial Story Photo Name 
30- Reflections of Monkland & District Photo Name Index,
31- Salem United Church BMD, 1884-1977, Summerstown, Ontario
32- Combined Name Index of Salem, Knox, 2nd Conc St Andrews S Lancaster
33- The School of The Glens Photo Name Index 
34- St. Andrew's United Church BMD, 1833-1978, 2nd Concession Lancaster Township Bainsville, Ontario
35- St Andrews Presbyterian Church BMD 1925-1990, Martintown, Ont.
36- St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church BMD, 1884-1978, South Lancaster, Ontario
37- St Andrews BMD & index V.1 1779-1804 Williamstown
38- St Andrews BMD & index V.2 1805-1914 Williamstown
39- St Finnans' BMD 1836-83 V1 A-McD;
40- St Finnans' BMD 1836-83 V2 McDonald;
41- St Finnans' BMD 1836-83 V3 McDougald-Young; 
42- St Johns Evangelist Anglican Church BMD Lancaster, Ont 1898-1977 & gravestone inscriptions
43- St Raphael’s BMD 1804-1835
45- Zion Church Burials 1833 - 1980 & Index 1833 - 1899

46- Title list

THE GLEN - ANN - LIFE INDEX 1961 - 1995  
The Methodist BM 1878 - 1903  Lancaster, Ont
The Hephzibah BM 1899 - 1911 Williamstown, Ont
St Joseph's RC  Lancaster, BMD 1904 - 1928

take care and god bless
Alex W Fraser
Courtenay, BC

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Looking for Andrew Fraser (1819 - 1871) and Flora McRae (1816 - 1894)

received this recent e mail looking for Fraser-McRae-Cameron family info.

From: Catherine Brisebois <cbrisebois2  @>
Subject: inquiry
Date: January 7, 2014 at 8:08:31 AM PST
Reply-To: Catherine Brisebois <cbrisebois2 @>

Good Morning,

I have recently begun trying to organize and put together information concerning my family roots.  Your name was suggested to me as a possible source of information, or you might be able to refer me to someone who has information that could help.  

I am presently working with notes that my grandmother recorded of what she could remember of family history.  As she recorded her information when she was up in years, I am sure there are inaccuracies.  However, this is where I am starting.

Her notes indicate that her great-grandparents, Andrew Fraser (1819 - 1871) and Flora McRae (1816 - 1894), are buried in Kirkhill Cemetery, near Alexandria.  She also noted Flora's parents as John McRae (1784 - 1868) and Janet Cameron (1795 - 1892).

Any information that you could confirm or expand upon would be greatly appreciated.

Cathy Brisebois

take care and God Bless
Alex W Fraser
Courtenay, BC

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Christmas Eve, 1881

Christmas Eve, 1881

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving. 

It was Christmas Eve, 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the
world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. 

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. 

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures.
But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in  self-pity. 

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see.

We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that
 needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens.

Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house.
 Something was up, but I didn't know what. 

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell.

We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.

When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow
Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?

Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it.

Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.

"What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of
shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards.
Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it.

We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have
 any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern. 

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door.
We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt... could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out, one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best... shoes that would last.

I watched her carefully.  She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then
 tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. 

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up."

I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.

My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids
started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send
one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it,

I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had
 never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. 

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit, and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord, that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest... my two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, may the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your Ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough.

Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to
 make things square. Your Ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny
sacks and I knew what I had to do.

Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood alright... and my eyes became wet with tears again. I
understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a
block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

Don't be too busy today... share this inspiring message. Merry Christmas and God bless you!