In Memoriam.

Since death has claimed our Jewel rare
With roses bright and auburn hair,
It’s taken all our smiles away,
For oh, how we miss her day after day.

Her face was like a poet’s dream,
Her smile a bright and beautiful sunbeam,
Shedding its radiance here and there,
At home at play and every where.

On March 11th the death angel entered the home of Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Smith and took from them their precious baby girl, little Mildred Elizabeth.

This dispensation of God’s providence severed the ties of their happy home and now all seems so sad and lonely since little Mildred’s gone, gone where?  To Heaven to live with Jesus, who when on earth called little children to come to him and blessed them, and said forbid them not for of such is the kingdom of heaven.  I fancy the angels sing more sweetly than ever before since her precious voice is mingled with theirs.

Father, mother we cannot say to you don’t grieve for your darling baby.  We grieve with you.  We know your hearts are broken to think she will be with you no more in this world.  How we all miss that pretty sweet face and those beautiful eyes that were always so bright even till the last moments.  We can see her so plain in her little suffering she was so sweet and patient through it all.

But dear loved one; she was too good to stay with you longer.  God saw in her a rare and precious jewel far too bright to be tarnished with the things of this world.  So he called home to heaven, where she stands waiting with “beckoning hands, to welcome us as we come one by one.”  If we could push ajar the gates of time and peep into the great beyond and see the great mysterious workings of our Heavenly Father, perchance we would not murmur nor complain when He lays his hand so heavily upon us, but not until we see Him face to face, will we understand His chastening hand.  He therefore commands us to “be still when God speaks.”
Some day we will see ‘tis best.
For God is too wise to err.  While little Mildred cannot come back to us,

“Our soul can see her in the skies.
A being pure and bright
Amid the angels clothed
In dyes of everlasting light.

Though death has touched her with his power,
He cannot change our love,
For on this earth she was our flower,
And now our star above.”

Aunt Bessie.