Vera war born July 25, 1889 and died November 2,1895 being 6 years 3 months and 8 days old. She was burned October 5, and suffered four long weeks not murmering only saying I feel so bad and Lord have mercy. All that kind hands could do and physicians could help were vain, at last and alas, she was forced to go and dwell among other precious angels. Dear Parents grieve not for your jewel she is only watching and waiting to meet you, then you can never be parted from your angel child.
She was a member of our Sabbath School and always knew her lesson perfect. She was sweet to her teachers and a pleasant companion to her mates - Her many friends saw her laid to rest at Park grave yard.
Yes dear little Vera 'tis sad to give you up but oh how sweet to meet again we'll miss you your little tongue that oftimes would bring cheer to our hearts, and sing some hymns to baby. Never no never can we hear your voice again.
Dear parents, a voice you loved is sill. A vacant place is your home, Which never can be filled. Then grieve no more for your dear, Though you are lonely without her here a chain is broken which never can be filled. For death has claimed your darling who is cold and still.
A. Schoolmate
The People's messenger., November 20, 1895, Page 4.
Vera war born July 25, 1889 and died November 2,1895 being 6 years 3 months and 8 days old. She was burned October 5, and suffered four long weeks not murmering only saying I feel so bad and Lord have mercy. All that kind hands could do and physicians could help were vain, at last and alas, she was forced to go and dwell among other precious angels. Dear Parents grieve not for your jewel she is only watching and waiting to meet you, then you can never be parted from your angel child.
She was a member of our Sabbath School and always knew her lesson perfect. She was sweet to her teachers and a pleasant companion to her mates - Her many friends saw her laid to rest at Park grave yard.
Yes dear little Vera 'tis sad to give you up but oh how sweet to meet again we'll miss you your little tongue that oftimes would bring cheer to our hearts, and sing some hymns to baby. Never no never can we hear your voice again.
Dear parents, a voice you loved is sill. A vacant place is your home, Which never can be filled. Then grieve no more for your dear, Though you are lonely without her here a chain is broken which never can be filled. For death has claimed your darling who is cold and still.
A. Schoolmate
The People's messenger., November 20, 1895, Page 4.
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