Notes for JOHN ZOLLIE BAGBY:
Correspondence following to family in the States about the unexpected blow reviews the drama as only a mother's eyes could see it.
Aug. 8th — It is a hard letter to write...Little John, our Zollie, was taken ill with a very bad cold two weeks ago last Monday (this is Saturday), but he had a high fever only a few hours and was perfectly well Saturday and Sunday following. I even attended worship Sunday - Emilia stayed with him and Miss Emma having been sick just as he was, stayed at home also. Sunday I let him play in the yard a little while, even.
Monday he seemed a little sick but I was not anxious - Tuesday I sent for the doctor, fearing that he had intermittent fever. This we broke up with quinine, which he took well. Wednesday night intestinal trouble began. The doctor considered him in such good condition, however, that he did not come Thursday. Friday he discovered that he was threatened with bronchitis and in the afternoon returned with Dr. Camargo, a Brazilian in whom we have great confidence. He said Dr. Cleary was over-careful. He told me my boy would get well!...His fever was entirely gone by Tuesday morning, but alas, he showed symptoms of brain trouble...
Oh, how I agonized that whole week in prayer. God made me willing to give him up but oh, I could not see him suffer, though they tell me he was unconscious. He was dying two whole days and a night and a half, our darling!
Miss Emma wouldn't leave him at all, she was stiff with holding him - he lay on the bed only the last day. He took his milk up to the last and his medicines and he passed away like a dream, our beautiful boy! No struggle, not even a hard breath!
Dear old Doctor would come in and say, "Poor little John!" He couldn't bear to see him suffer. Wednesday night or Thursday morning rather, Mrs. Rogers and Miss Emma and I bathed his little dimpled limbs and wax-like features and dressed him in the little blue dress that came to Ermine from Aunt Alice with Miss Hammon's embroidery on it, and laid him away in his white carriage to await his little coffin. When it came we fairly surrounded him with flowers. He looked to me just like sister Sallie.
He was the pet of the church and the neighborhood - no one ever saw him except to admire the rosy big boy! All the church members came who could, and they clubbed together and hired carriages and went out to the grave. There were in all eight carriages.
His Papa nursed him more than he had ever done one of his babes and he has lost several pounds in the last few days of anxiety and wakefulness he has spent with him. I'll have so much time now — I'll be so lonely, though Willie says he'll be my "truly baby" now. He used to love to be called a "gentleman" but he seems to feel that he must take baby's place now...
Now my dear ones don't grieve for our sorrow. Indeed, I do not grieve myself - I'm lonely but I cannot wish him back, and it seems a long time since he left me. If I could but forget the last few hours of suffering and remember only his bright, beautiful little life of fourteen months, then I could be happy again...
...I thank God that he did not linger as did Brother Charlie, or recover to be less bright, like poor Curty.
And after all, it's only for a little while!
Don't grieve!
ANNE
Late in January of 1892 she wrote:
I would rather my children die now than be even cold Christians. I want them to be afire with love to Jesus. God grant that we may, none of us, grow cold or indifferent in his service. If I must be kept warm by losing what I love best, I cannot ask otherwise.
Source: "The Bagby's of Brazil" by Helen Bagby [Harrison]
Correspondence following to family in the States about the unexpected blow reviews the drama as only a mother's eyes could see it.
Aug. 8th — It is a hard letter to write...Little John, our Zollie, was taken ill with a very bad cold two weeks ago last Monday (this is Saturday), but he had a high fever only a few hours and was perfectly well Saturday and Sunday following. I even attended worship Sunday - Emilia stayed with him and Miss Emma having been sick just as he was, stayed at home also. Sunday I let him play in the yard a little while, even.
Monday he seemed a little sick but I was not anxious - Tuesday I sent for the doctor, fearing that he had intermittent fever. This we broke up with quinine, which he took well. Wednesday night intestinal trouble began. The doctor considered him in such good condition, however, that he did not come Thursday. Friday he discovered that he was threatened with bronchitis and in the afternoon returned with Dr. Camargo, a Brazilian in whom we have great confidence. He said Dr. Cleary was over-careful. He told me my boy would get well!...His fever was entirely gone by Tuesday morning, but alas, he showed symptoms of brain trouble...
Oh, how I agonized that whole week in prayer. God made me willing to give him up but oh, I could not see him suffer, though they tell me he was unconscious. He was dying two whole days and a night and a half, our darling!
Miss Emma wouldn't leave him at all, she was stiff with holding him - he lay on the bed only the last day. He took his milk up to the last and his medicines and he passed away like a dream, our beautiful boy! No struggle, not even a hard breath!
Dear old Doctor would come in and say, "Poor little John!" He couldn't bear to see him suffer. Wednesday night or Thursday morning rather, Mrs. Rogers and Miss Emma and I bathed his little dimpled limbs and wax-like features and dressed him in the little blue dress that came to Ermine from Aunt Alice with Miss Hammon's embroidery on it, and laid him away in his white carriage to await his little coffin. When it came we fairly surrounded him with flowers. He looked to me just like sister Sallie.
He was the pet of the church and the neighborhood - no one ever saw him except to admire the rosy big boy! All the church members came who could, and they clubbed together and hired carriages and went out to the grave. There were in all eight carriages.
His Papa nursed him more than he had ever done one of his babes and he has lost several pounds in the last few days of anxiety and wakefulness he has spent with him. I'll have so much time now — I'll be so lonely, though Willie says he'll be my "truly baby" now. He used to love to be called a "gentleman" but he seems to feel that he must take baby's place now...
Now my dear ones don't grieve for our sorrow. Indeed, I do not grieve myself - I'm lonely but I cannot wish him back, and it seems a long time since he left me. If I could but forget the last few hours of suffering and remember only his bright, beautiful little life of fourteen months, then I could be happy again...
...I thank God that he did not linger as did Brother Charlie, or recover to be less bright, like poor Curty.
And after all, it's only for a little while!
Don't grieve!
ANNE
Late in January of 1892 she wrote:
I would rather my children die now than be even cold Christians. I want them to be afire with love to Jesus. God grant that we may, none of us, grow cold or indifferent in his service. If I must be kept warm by losing what I love best, I cannot ask otherwise.
Source: "The Bagby's of Brazil" by Helen Bagby [Harrison]
Notes for JOHN ZOLLIE BAGBY:
Correspondence following to family in the States about the unexpected blow reviews the drama as only a mother's eyes could see it.
Aug. 8th — It is a hard letter to write...Little John, our Zollie, was taken ill with a very bad cold two weeks ago last Monday (this is Saturday), but he had a high fever only a few hours and was perfectly well Saturday and Sunday following. I even attended worship Sunday - Emilia stayed with him and Miss Emma having been sick just as he was, stayed at home also. Sunday I let him play in the yard a little while, even.
Monday he seemed a little sick but I was not anxious - Tuesday I sent for the doctor, fearing that he had intermittent fever. This we broke up with quinine, which he took well. Wednesday night intestinal trouble began. The doctor considered him in such good condition, however, that he did not come Thursday. Friday he discovered that he was threatened with bronchitis and in the afternoon returned with Dr. Camargo, a Brazilian in whom we have great confidence. He said Dr. Cleary was over-careful. He told me my boy would get well!...His fever was entirely gone by Tuesday morning, but alas, he showed symptoms of brain trouble...
Oh, how I agonized that whole week in prayer. God made me willing to give him up but oh, I could not see him suffer, though they tell me he was unconscious. He was dying two whole days and a night and a half, our darling!
Miss Emma wouldn't leave him at all, she was stiff with holding him - he lay on the bed only the last day. He took his milk up to the last and his medicines and he passed away like a dream, our beautiful boy! No struggle, not even a hard breath!
Dear old Doctor would come in and say, "Poor little John!" He couldn't bear to see him suffer. Wednesday night or Thursday morning rather, Mrs. Rogers and Miss Emma and I bathed his little dimpled limbs and wax-like features and dressed him in the little blue dress that came to Ermine from Aunt Alice with Miss Hammon's embroidery on it, and laid him away in his white carriage to await his little coffin. When it came we fairly surrounded him with flowers. He looked to me just like sister Sallie.
He was the pet of the church and the neighborhood - no one ever saw him except to admire the rosy big boy! All the church members came who could, and they clubbed together and hired carriages and went out to the grave. There were in all eight carriages.
His Papa nursed him more than he had ever done one of his babes and he has lost several pounds in the last few days of anxiety and wakefulness he has spent with him. I'll have so much time now — I'll be so lonely, though Willie says he'll be my "truly baby" now. He used to love to be called a "gentleman" but he seems to feel that he must take baby's place now...
Now my dear ones don't grieve for our sorrow. Indeed, I do not grieve myself - I'm lonely but I cannot wish him back, and it seems a long time since he left me. If I could but forget the last few hours of suffering and remember only his bright, beautiful little life of fourteen months, then I could be happy again...
...I thank God that he did not linger as did Brother Charlie, or recover to be less bright, like poor Curty.
And after all, it's only for a little while!
Don't grieve!
ANNE
Late in January of 1892 she wrote:
I would rather my children die now than be even cold Christians. I want them to be afire with love to Jesus. God grant that we may, none of us, grow cold or indifferent in his service. If I must be kept warm by losing what I love best, I cannot ask otherwise.
Source: "The Bagby's of Brazil" by Helen Bagby [Harrison]
Correspondence following to family in the States about the unexpected blow reviews the drama as only a mother's eyes could see it.
Aug. 8th — It is a hard letter to write...Little John, our Zollie, was taken ill with a very bad cold two weeks ago last Monday (this is Saturday), but he had a high fever only a few hours and was perfectly well Saturday and Sunday following. I even attended worship Sunday - Emilia stayed with him and Miss Emma having been sick just as he was, stayed at home also. Sunday I let him play in the yard a little while, even.
Monday he seemed a little sick but I was not anxious - Tuesday I sent for the doctor, fearing that he had intermittent fever. This we broke up with quinine, which he took well. Wednesday night intestinal trouble began. The doctor considered him in such good condition, however, that he did not come Thursday. Friday he discovered that he was threatened with bronchitis and in the afternoon returned with Dr. Camargo, a Brazilian in whom we have great confidence. He said Dr. Cleary was over-careful. He told me my boy would get well!...His fever was entirely gone by Tuesday morning, but alas, he showed symptoms of brain trouble...
Oh, how I agonized that whole week in prayer. God made me willing to give him up but oh, I could not see him suffer, though they tell me he was unconscious. He was dying two whole days and a night and a half, our darling!
Miss Emma wouldn't leave him at all, she was stiff with holding him - he lay on the bed only the last day. He took his milk up to the last and his medicines and he passed away like a dream, our beautiful boy! No struggle, not even a hard breath!
Dear old Doctor would come in and say, "Poor little John!" He couldn't bear to see him suffer. Wednesday night or Thursday morning rather, Mrs. Rogers and Miss Emma and I bathed his little dimpled limbs and wax-like features and dressed him in the little blue dress that came to Ermine from Aunt Alice with Miss Hammon's embroidery on it, and laid him away in his white carriage to await his little coffin. When it came we fairly surrounded him with flowers. He looked to me just like sister Sallie.
He was the pet of the church and the neighborhood - no one ever saw him except to admire the rosy big boy! All the church members came who could, and they clubbed together and hired carriages and went out to the grave. There were in all eight carriages.
His Papa nursed him more than he had ever done one of his babes and he has lost several pounds in the last few days of anxiety and wakefulness he has spent with him. I'll have so much time now — I'll be so lonely, though Willie says he'll be my "truly baby" now. He used to love to be called a "gentleman" but he seems to feel that he must take baby's place now...
Now my dear ones don't grieve for our sorrow. Indeed, I do not grieve myself - I'm lonely but I cannot wish him back, and it seems a long time since he left me. If I could but forget the last few hours of suffering and remember only his bright, beautiful little life of fourteen months, then I could be happy again...
...I thank God that he did not linger as did Brother Charlie, or recover to be less bright, like poor Curty.
And after all, it's only for a little while!
Don't grieve!
ANNE
Late in January of 1892 she wrote:
I would rather my children die now than be even cold Christians. I want them to be afire with love to Jesus. God grant that we may, none of us, grow cold or indifferent in his service. If I must be kept warm by losing what I love best, I cannot ask otherwise.
Source: "The Bagby's of Brazil" by Helen Bagby [Harrison]
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