I, Abel, once called Abraham, observe my grandchildren, the four children of my son Felix and his wife Julia. I, like the patriarch Jacob, bless my grandchildren, and wish to see that at least one of them can carry on the birthright. These offspring form family tapestries with common strands, though laid across are individual threads -- the colors and the patterns of their own traits, endowments and the varied influences upon their lives. I see in all of the family tapestries many threads: purple strands of pride in their accomplishments and their prestige; metallic bands of dominance; white threads of morality and thrift braided together; brown velvet strands of acquisitiveness --the pleasure of owning objects of beauty. There are also woven into the warp, threads of searing red anger -- the condemnation of others. And there are continuing orange strands of competitiveness. Strung next to the orange strands, I see the chartreuse threads of envy, rough and ugly. Also in the family tapestries, I see some bright pink threads pulling tight: "Love me, love me," they demand. Finally, gossamer gray strands of depression and of silence, form muted patterns through the tapestries and these gray shapes sometime cloud the other hues. Futhermore, my grandchildren, many of the threads and textures of your tapestries, are woven into repeated spirals, pointing inward, pointing inward.

It is now my fervent hope, that you of the following generations will look upon these family tapestries as weavings of strong cords, a mixed heritage to appreciate and to understand. Then, I hope, with God's help, you will be able to develop your own tapestries with patterns of blessing.