IN LOVING MEMORY OF MRS. J.D. PATE

Born Dec. 16, 1877, died Feb. 1, 1932

In a bright, happy home filled with sunshine, now sorrow and sadness reign. For death, with its cold, icy fingers, upon a dear mother laid claim.

On a sad Monday evening there came the one clear call and the saintly spirit of dear Modenia crossed the bar and entered into the joys that await the blessed. We lament her going deeply because her life here among us was worthy of our admiration and love. She was merciful and compassionate, gentle and kind. She was devoted to her children, ever ready to sympathize and forgive, yet keeping with many a light disguise the secret of self sacrifice. She hid the faults of theirs with a mantle of Christian charity. She walked with steady step and steadfast eyes onward and upward the mark for the prize of the high calling in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Death like an untimely frost fell on her in the glorious fullness of her splendid womanhood, while yet the lingering light of her girlhood's grace rested on her pale, sweet face. We who loved her read that look of compassionate tenderness with which she faint would have comforted him who loved her with a deathless devotion, whose heart is broken with his sorrow and loss. The aged one, her beloved father, the grief-stricken children, brothers and sisters, relatives and friends also in intrepted in that tremulous trace of love and peace and God given wisdom, a consoling message to assuage their grief and know that all is well with her forever more. Her life, in its purity, nobility of purpose and loyal and untiring sacrifice to her family will be an inspiration and a benediction to all who knew her. Her influence for good will be felt now and in the years to come ever widening the circle of blessedness until it reaches the white calm of eternity. May the rainbow of His blessed promises gleam through our tears and remind us of the truth that death is but a covered way which opens into light, wherein no blinded child can stray beyond the Father's sight, where all the parring notes of life are blinded in a Psalm. And all the angels of its strife, slow rounding into calm; gone from us but not forgotten. Never shall her memory fade, sweetest thoughts shall ever linger around the spot where she is laid.
***************************************
Written by her friend, Mrs. Edd Chapman, and furnished by Modenia's granddaughter, Virginia Wilson Bailey, seventy seven years later.
***************************************