Ethel Rosecrans Morelock
News Article
Newspaper Unknown – Date unknown
From Original Newspaper Clipping
Obituary.
It becomes our sad duty to chronicle the death of little Ethel , daughter of S. B. and Hariet Morelock.
It was in the month of June that the then prevailing disease, Meningitis, claimed this bright little girl as its victim, and, in defiance to all aid offered, this monster failed to relinquish its claims until it lay in the slumbers of death this cherished form. Shortly after her illness began it seemed that the powers of the disease were first becoming too great for the vital flame burning so dimly, and as this darling child lay apparently swooning away in death, the fond mother, whose heart was breaking from grief, breathed a prayer to heaven that little Ethel might again be able to call the name – mama.
The stimulants were applied, and God’s love, which is ever sufficient for an hour of distress, descended, and his living voice commanded the march of death to be still yet a little while.
The little form again revived, the smile played upon the face , and the tongue once so silent, now prattled the names of papa and mama. Fond hopes once blighted become renewed and redemption from this destroyer seemed probable. But this was hoping too much. The scene became more gloomy still, and slowly but surely, lingering between life and death for many weeks, the powers of life yielded to the inevitable. The jewel was too bright to become tarnished by the rude changes of earth. So God, in his wisdom and love, sent forth his angel escapes to gather his treasure for heaven. Little Ethel possessed a mind of superior brightness for one of her years. She was the sunshine of the home and the joy of her grandpapa in his declining days.
Another flower plucked while yet in the sweet bud, though not too soon to make heaven falter with its immortal blooming.
She was interred at Pilot Knob Cemetery December 2, 1888, while many friends and relatives drew near to share the grief of those who were called to mourn for their loved and lost. Parents weep not, as the gloom ?????? appointment steals into your home, “All is well – All is well.”
S. L. P.
News Article
Newspaper Unknown – Date unknown
From Original Newspaper Clipping
Obituary.
It becomes our sad duty to chronicle the death of little Ethel , daughter of S. B. and Hariet Morelock.
It was in the month of June that the then prevailing disease, Meningitis, claimed this bright little girl as its victim, and, in defiance to all aid offered, this monster failed to relinquish its claims until it lay in the slumbers of death this cherished form. Shortly after her illness began it seemed that the powers of the disease were first becoming too great for the vital flame burning so dimly, and as this darling child lay apparently swooning away in death, the fond mother, whose heart was breaking from grief, breathed a prayer to heaven that little Ethel might again be able to call the name – mama.
The stimulants were applied, and God’s love, which is ever sufficient for an hour of distress, descended, and his living voice commanded the march of death to be still yet a little while.
The little form again revived, the smile played upon the face , and the tongue once so silent, now prattled the names of papa and mama. Fond hopes once blighted become renewed and redemption from this destroyer seemed probable. But this was hoping too much. The scene became more gloomy still, and slowly but surely, lingering between life and death for many weeks, the powers of life yielded to the inevitable. The jewel was too bright to become tarnished by the rude changes of earth. So God, in his wisdom and love, sent forth his angel escapes to gather his treasure for heaven. Little Ethel possessed a mind of superior brightness for one of her years. She was the sunshine of the home and the joy of her grandpapa in his declining days.
Another flower plucked while yet in the sweet bud, though not too soon to make heaven falter with its immortal blooming.
She was interred at Pilot Knob Cemetery December 2, 1888, while many friends and relatives drew near to share the grief of those who were called to mourn for their loved and lost. Parents weep not, as the gloom ?????? appointment steals into your home, “All is well – All is well.”
S. L. P.
Ethel Rosecrans Morelock
News Article
Newspaper Unknown – Date unknown
From Original Newspaper Clipping
Obituary.
It becomes our sad duty to chronicle the death of little Ethel , daughter of S. B. and Hariet Morelock.
It was in the month of June that the then prevailing disease, Meningitis, claimed this bright little girl as its victim, and, in defiance to all aid offered, this monster failed to relinquish its claims until it lay in the slumbers of death this cherished form. Shortly after her illness began it seemed that the powers of the disease were first becoming too great for the vital flame burning so dimly, and as this darling child lay apparently swooning away in death, the fond mother, whose heart was breaking from grief, breathed a prayer to heaven that little Ethel might again be able to call the name – mama.
The stimulants were applied, and God’s love, which is ever sufficient for an hour of distress, descended, and his living voice commanded the march of death to be still yet a little while.
The little form again revived, the smile played upon the face , and the tongue once so silent, now prattled the names of papa and mama. Fond hopes once blighted become renewed and redemption from this destroyer seemed probable. But this was hoping too much. The scene became more gloomy still, and slowly but surely, lingering between life and death for many weeks, the powers of life yielded to the inevitable. The jewel was too bright to become tarnished by the rude changes of earth. So God, in his wisdom and love, sent forth his angel escapes to gather his treasure for heaven. Little Ethel possessed a mind of superior brightness for one of her years. She was the sunshine of the home and the joy of her grandpapa in his declining days.
Another flower plucked while yet in the sweet bud, though not too soon to make heaven falter with its immortal blooming.
She was interred at Pilot Knob Cemetery December 2, 1888, while many friends and relatives drew near to share the grief of those who were called to mourn for their loved and lost. Parents weep not, as the gloom ?????? appointment steals into your home, “All is well – All is well.”
S. L. P.
News Article
Newspaper Unknown – Date unknown
From Original Newspaper Clipping
Obituary.
It becomes our sad duty to chronicle the death of little Ethel , daughter of S. B. and Hariet Morelock.
It was in the month of June that the then prevailing disease, Meningitis, claimed this bright little girl as its victim, and, in defiance to all aid offered, this monster failed to relinquish its claims until it lay in the slumbers of death this cherished form. Shortly after her illness began it seemed that the powers of the disease were first becoming too great for the vital flame burning so dimly, and as this darling child lay apparently swooning away in death, the fond mother, whose heart was breaking from grief, breathed a prayer to heaven that little Ethel might again be able to call the name – mama.
The stimulants were applied, and God’s love, which is ever sufficient for an hour of distress, descended, and his living voice commanded the march of death to be still yet a little while.
The little form again revived, the smile played upon the face , and the tongue once so silent, now prattled the names of papa and mama. Fond hopes once blighted become renewed and redemption from this destroyer seemed probable. But this was hoping too much. The scene became more gloomy still, and slowly but surely, lingering between life and death for many weeks, the powers of life yielded to the inevitable. The jewel was too bright to become tarnished by the rude changes of earth. So God, in his wisdom and love, sent forth his angel escapes to gather his treasure for heaven. Little Ethel possessed a mind of superior brightness for one of her years. She was the sunshine of the home and the joy of her grandpapa in his declining days.
Another flower plucked while yet in the sweet bud, though not too soon to make heaven falter with its immortal blooming.
She was interred at Pilot Knob Cemetery December 2, 1888, while many friends and relatives drew near to share the grief of those who were called to mourn for their loved and lost. Parents weep not, as the gloom ?????? appointment steals into your home, “All is well – All is well.”
S. L. P.
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