For years, I thought I was simply doing family history research. I interviewed relatives. I scanned photographs. I organized documents. I collected funeral programs. I preserved school memorabilia. I wrote about my discoveries on my blog and shared them through my podcast. It wasn’t until recently that I learned the word stewardship.
Stewardship means caring for something that has been entrusted to you so it can benefit future generations. As soon as I read that definition, I realized I had been practicing stewardship for years without even knowing it.



That realization became even clearer when my family cleaned out my grandparents’ home after nearly 80 years. What looked like old boxes to some people held decades of family and community history—photographs, school records, church programs, newspaper clippings, and memorabilia that told the story of not only my family, but the community that helped shape us.
Since then, I’ve digitized photographs, created community history displays, produced historical videos, shared stories through my blog and podcast. Every project has been one small way of making sure these stories continue long after I’m gone. Family historians often think our job is to discover the past. While that’s certainly part of it, I believe our responsibility goes a step further. We preserve, protect, and pass it on.
I agree!
I’ve written about the majority of my family and have moved on to my husband’s. I think we’ve all been astonished by the information I’ve found and I feel like I’m giving my husband, son, and his cousins, etc. a chance to know their ancestors as well.
I am currently waiting for a second cousin, who lives nearby, to clean out his home for a move (also nearby). He told me he has his grandmother’s boxes up in the attic and he will give them to me when he cleans it out. I am over the moon wondering what there will be. We all know the women in the family are the keepers right? I’m praying for photos of my great grandparents and grandparents!
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I enjoyed reading this very much. Unfortunately, it reminded me of all the so-called junk I’ve discarded through the years that was actually holders of precious stories.
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