I am what my father thought; I am what my mother prayed for. I am the labour of my forebears. I am their hopes, their sicknesses, their healings. I am their loves, their struggles, even their blasphemies and their sins. I am their dawns and sunsets, their pitiless winters, their thrilling spring times, their blazing summers, their tranquil autumns. I am their births and their deaths. Scientists at one time used to speak, perhaps they