Laura Belle Bonner, second daughter of Jim Billie Bonner and Nannie Belle York, was born January 9, 1919 at Bonnerville, Texas. She was named for her mother and her aunt. She attended Stewards Mill and Fairfield Schools. Her siblings called her "Nig." Laura Belle developed pneumonia on Sunday February 7, 1932 and never recovered. Hope said, "Aunt Laura stayed with us all the time Laura Belle was sick," and John remembered that Auntie was also there. She died at age 13 on Thursday, February 18, 1932 and is buried in the Bonner Cemetery. Baby Doll said, "When Laura Belle died the weather was terrible and rains had made the roads too muddy to drive. The men walked to the cemetery carrying the coffin and Aunt Nannie was the only woman who went." Angie May Watson's diary for 1932 reports twenty-two days of rain between January 1 and February 21 of that year and that Sunday School was canceled on that date because roads were impassable. Laura Belle's doll now belongs to Jane Bonner Salter. The following tribute is by J. Walter Simpson, Presbyterian Minister at Stewards Mill.
LITTLE MAIDEN----------------------GOD'S FLOWER
It sometimes happens that the sun arises with unusual splendor.
In golden armor it battles with the forces of darkness and sends them
flying beyond the western hills. Each leaf hangs stuck with
diamond dew-drops, each drop burning like the Sun himself, men said, this is a fair day and hope and joy beam from their eyes. All nature was aglow with light. The little birds caught the day spirit and sang their sweetest carols. The sky blue, and June like, laid its warn ear close to Earth to hear if it were in tune, O, What is rare as a morn in June, But before the morning was scare begun, a cloud arose. It came up very fast, and grew thicker and thicker. The day grew darker and darker. Not one gleam of Gold could push through that storm cloud to give man one ray of hope. The day became very dark. Then came the storm, terrible, furious.
It whirled through a valley of oaks, and withed and twisted their great
trunks and branches until all was waste and desolation. There were much
mourning and crying in that valley of strong oaks.
On January 9th 1919 into the home of Mr. & Mrs. J. B. Bonner there was a life that came in like a new born day; Little Laura Belle, It brought golden
light into that home, There never was a day in June as rare as that bright
life. It gave hope and happiness to every one. The birds sang merrier for
her presence. The flowers seemed to give out their sweetest perfume for her pleasure. It was easy to be good when she was near, all was happiness all was light. But the storm arose suddenly one beautiful Sabbath afternoon, There was no warning, but a sudden pain, sharp as a lightning flash. I have pneumonia said little Laura Belle. Loving hands put her
comfortably to bed. The Doctor was summoned, he did his best, but on February 18th 1932, she said "Doctor you have lost". Then all grew dark, Great hearts were torn and mangled. Strong men broke down and cried, It was like a battle field of wounded, a valley of oaks after the storm. It is all lost, we say, But wait, that bright sunlit morn gave hope to a little seed, It took root and grew into a vine with luxurious foliage and covered over on those strong oaks. So this morning life has started to grow a seed of love and it will cover over the wounded hearts with its healing leaves of memory. And as the oak looks richer with the Ivy clinging to it, so our lives will be made richer and sweater because of the clinging love-memory of little Laura Belle.
The wounds will not heal. The forest will never rise, the heart will always
bear the scars. I do not tell you not to weep; let love have its way.
If love says for the tears to flow; love knows best; love will find a way where Reason will fail. But hear just a word of reason. Nothing can be lost. This is a law of physics; If no energy can be lost, how can love, sweetness and purity be lost; there was real worth in this young life, worth to her home, worth to the Sabbath school, worth to the "Helping Hands", worth to the childrens society; worth to the public schools, and I say it with all seriousness, worth to God. If there is any-thing earthly that would picture her character, it is sun light and roses, if there is any-thing heavenly that portrays her nature, it is love. What more does earth need, what more can heaven demand?, Sun-light, Roses, love. purity, they give joy to man, they will give joy to God, Her life has been a blessing to us, though it was so very short.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And made it blossom there.
J. Walter Simpson 1932
LITTLE MAIDEN----------------------GOD'S FLOWER
It sometimes happens that the sun arises with unusual splendor.
In golden armor it battles with the forces of darkness and sends them
flying beyond the western hills. Each leaf hangs stuck with
diamond dew-drops, each drop burning like the Sun himself, men said, this is a fair day and hope and joy beam from their eyes. All nature was aglow with light. The little birds caught the day spirit and sang their sweetest carols. The sky blue, and June like, laid its warn ear close to Earth to hear if it were in tune, O, What is rare as a morn in June, But before the morning was scare begun, a cloud arose. It came up very fast, and grew thicker and thicker. The day grew darker and darker. Not one gleam of Gold could push through that storm cloud to give man one ray of hope. The day became very dark. Then came the storm, terrible, furious.
It whirled through a valley of oaks, and withed and twisted their great
trunks and branches until all was waste and desolation. There were much
mourning and crying in that valley of strong oaks.
On January 9th 1919 into the home of Mr. & Mrs. J. B. Bonner there was a life that came in like a new born day; Little Laura Belle, It brought golden
light into that home, There never was a day in June as rare as that bright
life. It gave hope and happiness to every one. The birds sang merrier for
her presence. The flowers seemed to give out their sweetest perfume for her pleasure. It was easy to be good when she was near, all was happiness all was light. But the storm arose suddenly one beautiful Sabbath afternoon, There was no warning, but a sudden pain, sharp as a lightning flash. I have pneumonia said little Laura Belle. Loving hands put her
comfortably to bed. The Doctor was summoned, he did his best, but on February 18th 1932, she said "Doctor you have lost". Then all grew dark, Great hearts were torn and mangled. Strong men broke down and cried, It was like a battle field of wounded, a valley of oaks after the storm. It is all lost, we say, But wait, that bright sunlit morn gave hope to a little seed, It took root and grew into a vine with luxurious foliage and covered over on those strong oaks. So this morning life has started to grow a seed of love and it will cover over the wounded hearts with its healing leaves of memory. And as the oak looks richer with the Ivy clinging to it, so our lives will be made richer and sweater because of the clinging love-memory of little Laura Belle.
The wounds will not heal. The forest will never rise, the heart will always
bear the scars. I do not tell you not to weep; let love have its way.
If love says for the tears to flow; love knows best; love will find a way where Reason will fail. But hear just a word of reason. Nothing can be lost. This is a law of physics; If no energy can be lost, how can love, sweetness and purity be lost; there was real worth in this young life, worth to her home, worth to the Sabbath school, worth to the "Helping Hands", worth to the childrens society; worth to the public schools, and I say it with all seriousness, worth to God. If there is any-thing earthly that would picture her character, it is sun light and roses, if there is any-thing heavenly that portrays her nature, it is love. What more does earth need, what more can heaven demand?, Sun-light, Roses, love. purity, they give joy to man, they will give joy to God, Her life has been a blessing to us, though it was so very short.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And made it blossom there.
J. Walter Simpson 1932
Laura Belle Bonner, second daughter of Jim Billie Bonner and Nannie Belle York, was born January 9, 1919 at Bonnerville, Texas. She was named for her mother and her aunt. She attended Stewards Mill and Fairfield Schools. Her siblings called her "Nig." Laura Belle developed pneumonia on Sunday February 7, 1932 and never recovered. Hope said, "Aunt Laura stayed with us all the time Laura Belle was sick," and John remembered that Auntie was also there. She died at age 13 on Thursday, February 18, 1932 and is buried in the Bonner Cemetery. Baby Doll said, "When Laura Belle died the weather was terrible and rains had made the roads too muddy to drive. The men walked to the cemetery carrying the coffin and Aunt Nannie was the only woman who went." Angie May Watson's diary for 1932 reports twenty-two days of rain between January 1 and February 21 of that year and that Sunday School was canceled on that date because roads were impassable. Laura Belle's doll now belongs to Jane Bonner Salter. The following tribute is by J. Walter Simpson, Presbyterian Minister at Stewards Mill.
LITTLE MAIDEN----------------------GOD'S FLOWER
It sometimes happens that the sun arises with unusual splendor.
In golden armor it battles with the forces of darkness and sends them
flying beyond the western hills. Each leaf hangs stuck with
diamond dew-drops, each drop burning like the Sun himself, men said, this is a fair day and hope and joy beam from their eyes. All nature was aglow with light. The little birds caught the day spirit and sang their sweetest carols. The sky blue, and June like, laid its warn ear close to Earth to hear if it were in tune, O, What is rare as a morn in June, But before the morning was scare begun, a cloud arose. It came up very fast, and grew thicker and thicker. The day grew darker and darker. Not one gleam of Gold could push through that storm cloud to give man one ray of hope. The day became very dark. Then came the storm, terrible, furious.
It whirled through a valley of oaks, and withed and twisted their great
trunks and branches until all was waste and desolation. There were much
mourning and crying in that valley of strong oaks.
On January 9th 1919 into the home of Mr. & Mrs. J. B. Bonner there was a life that came in like a new born day; Little Laura Belle, It brought golden
light into that home, There never was a day in June as rare as that bright
life. It gave hope and happiness to every one. The birds sang merrier for
her presence. The flowers seemed to give out their sweetest perfume for her pleasure. It was easy to be good when she was near, all was happiness all was light. But the storm arose suddenly one beautiful Sabbath afternoon, There was no warning, but a sudden pain, sharp as a lightning flash. I have pneumonia said little Laura Belle. Loving hands put her
comfortably to bed. The Doctor was summoned, he did his best, but on February 18th 1932, she said "Doctor you have lost". Then all grew dark, Great hearts were torn and mangled. Strong men broke down and cried, It was like a battle field of wounded, a valley of oaks after the storm. It is all lost, we say, But wait, that bright sunlit morn gave hope to a little seed, It took root and grew into a vine with luxurious foliage and covered over on those strong oaks. So this morning life has started to grow a seed of love and it will cover over the wounded hearts with its healing leaves of memory. And as the oak looks richer with the Ivy clinging to it, so our lives will be made richer and sweater because of the clinging love-memory of little Laura Belle.
The wounds will not heal. The forest will never rise, the heart will always
bear the scars. I do not tell you not to weep; let love have its way.
If love says for the tears to flow; love knows best; love will find a way where Reason will fail. But hear just a word of reason. Nothing can be lost. This is a law of physics; If no energy can be lost, how can love, sweetness and purity be lost; there was real worth in this young life, worth to her home, worth to the Sabbath school, worth to the "Helping Hands", worth to the childrens society; worth to the public schools, and I say it with all seriousness, worth to God. If there is any-thing earthly that would picture her character, it is sun light and roses, if there is any-thing heavenly that portrays her nature, it is love. What more does earth need, what more can heaven demand?, Sun-light, Roses, love. purity, they give joy to man, they will give joy to God, Her life has been a blessing to us, though it was so very short.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And made it blossom there.
J. Walter Simpson 1932
LITTLE MAIDEN----------------------GOD'S FLOWER
It sometimes happens that the sun arises with unusual splendor.
In golden armor it battles with the forces of darkness and sends them
flying beyond the western hills. Each leaf hangs stuck with
diamond dew-drops, each drop burning like the Sun himself, men said, this is a fair day and hope and joy beam from their eyes. All nature was aglow with light. The little birds caught the day spirit and sang their sweetest carols. The sky blue, and June like, laid its warn ear close to Earth to hear if it were in tune, O, What is rare as a morn in June, But before the morning was scare begun, a cloud arose. It came up very fast, and grew thicker and thicker. The day grew darker and darker. Not one gleam of Gold could push through that storm cloud to give man one ray of hope. The day became very dark. Then came the storm, terrible, furious.
It whirled through a valley of oaks, and withed and twisted their great
trunks and branches until all was waste and desolation. There were much
mourning and crying in that valley of strong oaks.
On January 9th 1919 into the home of Mr. & Mrs. J. B. Bonner there was a life that came in like a new born day; Little Laura Belle, It brought golden
light into that home, There never was a day in June as rare as that bright
life. It gave hope and happiness to every one. The birds sang merrier for
her presence. The flowers seemed to give out their sweetest perfume for her pleasure. It was easy to be good when she was near, all was happiness all was light. But the storm arose suddenly one beautiful Sabbath afternoon, There was no warning, but a sudden pain, sharp as a lightning flash. I have pneumonia said little Laura Belle. Loving hands put her
comfortably to bed. The Doctor was summoned, he did his best, but on February 18th 1932, she said "Doctor you have lost". Then all grew dark, Great hearts were torn and mangled. Strong men broke down and cried, It was like a battle field of wounded, a valley of oaks after the storm. It is all lost, we say, But wait, that bright sunlit morn gave hope to a little seed, It took root and grew into a vine with luxurious foliage and covered over on those strong oaks. So this morning life has started to grow a seed of love and it will cover over the wounded hearts with its healing leaves of memory. And as the oak looks richer with the Ivy clinging to it, so our lives will be made richer and sweater because of the clinging love-memory of little Laura Belle.
The wounds will not heal. The forest will never rise, the heart will always
bear the scars. I do not tell you not to weep; let love have its way.
If love says for the tears to flow; love knows best; love will find a way where Reason will fail. But hear just a word of reason. Nothing can be lost. This is a law of physics; If no energy can be lost, how can love, sweetness and purity be lost; there was real worth in this young life, worth to her home, worth to the Sabbath school, worth to the "Helping Hands", worth to the childrens society; worth to the public schools, and I say it with all seriousness, worth to God. If there is any-thing earthly that would picture her character, it is sun light and roses, if there is any-thing heavenly that portrays her nature, it is love. What more does earth need, what more can heaven demand?, Sun-light, Roses, love. purity, they give joy to man, they will give joy to God, Her life has been a blessing to us, though it was so very short.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And made it blossom there.
J. Walter Simpson 1932
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