The Circle Goes Unbroken
Some of Rev. Guy Smith's descendants and their kin on America's frontiers
The wooden ship creaked as the wind popped the heavy canvas sails, pushing the small sailing vessel away from the coast of England. Along the bow cutting through the seas, water hissed gently as it was pushed aside, purling and foaming, spreading into full sized swells rolling away from the craft. Riding heavy with its full load of cargo and passengers, the ship cut purposefully through the waves. Drops of water flung up by the passing ship glittered briefly in the bright sunlight, then fell back to the sea.
Folding his forearms on the polished wooden rail, young Guy Smith leaned forward, the wind tossing his hair about his face, the smell of salt spray strong in his nose. Squinting in the bright light, he strained to see the fast receding English coast, home to his family for countless generations. It was with a sudden sadness that the young minister realized that the vibrant green of the English countryside would soon become only a memory for him. Guy had answered the call for ministers of the Church of England to serve in the vacant parishes of the Colony of Virginia.
Willing away the sadness with a small shake of his head, he placed his hand on the railing, slowly straightening. He turned, and with the wind now at his back, faced west to America; his future unknown, but propelled, he hoped, with the force of God's will.