The challenge had become so great and timing somewhat urgent as piles of papers threatened to collapse around my feet that something had to be done. The action began during the short break between Christmas and New Year. The paper bank in the village swallowed copious amounts of paper and the shredder glowed red as paper was fed into its throat on a grand scale. The result of this cleansing is that things forgotten about and lost came to light, some being very precious, having been given or written by members of the family no longer with us. Letters, written in my father’s handwriting, of which no more will be received, photographs of great age, depicting family gatherings in the distant past, some recognized, others without names known to me, but portraying great family likenesses.